


eat your heart out

by doitsushine92



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Violence, But also, Comedy, Friendship, Homophobic Slurs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Resident Evil, Inspired by Zombieland, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of religion, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, but not rn, chensung are also straight, mark as the token straight guy, thought I should mention that, undecided endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doitsushine92/pseuds/doitsushine92
Summary: “What did she say?” Chenle urges.Jisung opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. He repeats the motion several times, at a complete loss for words. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this,” he giggles, and he sounds about the same Renjun did earlier in the car. Jeno hopes he doesn’t have to deal with another breakdown; the first one was emotionally exhausting enough.“Guys,” Jisung says slowly, “We’re in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello wonderful people, i am here with another fic. i have about 13k written and i plan on it being 30k so yay
> 
> a couple of things:
> 
> 1\. renjun has an unspecified mental disorder  
> 2\. i haven't decided on endgame so it might be 00z but it might not be  
> 3\. none of the dreamies will die but if everything goes according to plan, some people will  
> 4\. very cliche

“Did you bring the stuff?”

Donghyuck snorts. He dumps his duffel bag on the back of Mark’s car and goes around to the passenger’s seat, almost crushing Mark’s sunglasses before Mark snatches them up at the last second. The lady across the street, Mrs. Porter, waves at them cheerfully with her free hand, the other attached to her poodle’s leash. They wave back, Mark with an equally cheery smile, Donghyuck less enthusiastically so.

“You make it sound like I’m bringing you drugs,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“I mean, it kinda is like drugs,” Mark says, shrugging. “The last time we drank that we ended up hanging upside down from a tree. I don’t even remember how we got to the park that day and I definitely don’t remember ever learning how to climb a tree.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, hyung,” Donghyuck utters, making a mocking emphasis on the last word. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Mark gives him a scathing look, but he drops the subject. He knows it’s fruitless to argue with him, anyway. Mark waits for Donghyuck to get comfortable, buckling his seatbelt, throwing his feet up on the dash and reclining his seat to a horizontal position, giving him a thumb up when he’s done. Mark backs out of Donghyuck’s driveway with practiced ease and drives under the speed limit until they reach the highway, where he’s _encouraged_ to “floor it.”

Donghyuck has taken ownership of the aux cord and he keeps playing EXO to his heart’s content, although he does occasionally let Mark pick the music so things are fair. He also calls Mark’s taste “shitty” but Mark knows he doesn’t really mean it – he saw him mouthing the lyrics to a Giriboy song.

“How much longer till we get there?” Donghyuck whines, an hour into the car ride.

“Not much.”

“How much is not much?”

“I told you, not much, Donghyuck.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

Mark sighs. He can see, out of the corner of his eye, the little smirk playing at Donghyuck’s lips, enough indication of his true intentions – to annoy Mark. Whenever they’re trapped in a moving vehicle for extended periods of time, Donghyuck makes it a personal mission to get Mark riled up. It’s fun for him, for whatever reason, to see the forehead vein pop.

The agreed meeting place is at the minimarket slash rest stop on the way to the camping grounds. Donghyuck spots Renjun’s pick-up truck when they enter the parking lot, Chenle sitting on the open back with his sunglasses perched on his nose and a cap on his head; he’s got his head thrown back, as if he’s enjoying the sun in a safe manner. They can also see Jisung’s skinny frame struggle to hoist a gigantic bag of chips unto the truck next to Chenle.

“Hey, losers!” Donghyuck shouts at them through the open window. Chenle doesn’t look up, but Jisung flips him the bird. “Don’t be so disrespectful!”

“Where’s Renjun?” Mark asks, climbing out of his car. “Chenle, you can ride with us if you want, you don’t have to sit out in the sun.”

Chenle scrambles to jump out of the truck, shooting Mark a grateful smile before sitting in the backseat of his car. Donghyuck rolls down the top and turns up the air conditioner when he sees the drops of sweat rolling down Chenle’s cheeks and gets another smile, this time aimed at him. Donghyuck bats it away and pretends he doesn’t find it adorable. “Did Jeno or Jaemin tell you when they’ll be here?” Donghyuck asks.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they called Renjun hyung but I couldn’t hear over the wind.”

“Hum,” Donghyuck nods. “I’ll text them.”

Just then, their groupchat blows up with text after text from Jaemin. He’s clearly excited, and none of his messages provide any clue as to why, until the last one, which only states to turn on the radio – any station will do. Donghyuck does as he’s told, shooting a text himself to ask where they are. Most of the radios stations are, unfortunately, down, and all they get is static for a good while. Mark frowns, but he doesn’t give it much thought, fishing around his backpack for his wallet. He never got an answer from either of the rascals, but he suspects Renjun must be in the minimarket area of the rest stop.

Jisung, perched on the window of the passenger’s seat, ducks his head further inside the car and frowns, “That’s weird. We were listening to that station when we pulled into the parking lot. It was working perfectly.”

“Maybe there was a power out,” Chenle suggests. He’s fanning his face with the collar of his shirt, but he’s not three seconds away from dying as he was before. “There have been a lot of those lately.”

On cue, they all look towards the rest stop, but the automatic doors open at the same moment so no, it can’t be that. “Maybe it was one in the city. Try one of the local stations.”

Mark doesn’t stay to find out, his mind set on one thing and one thing only: his fish tacos. He waves at them as he walks towards the building, but he’s only acknowledged by Jisung, who nods at him and then goes back to his conversation with Chenle and Donghyuck.

Mark browses the aisles of the mini market in search for Renjun. He asked the clerk at the entrance if he’d seen a skinny, Asian boy around, but the kid had barely looked up from his phone to shrug, so Mark is now sentenced to walk aimlessly around the building until he finds him. Well, he thinks calling it a mini market is the wrong term, but it’s also how they advertise themselves: the building is long with a low roof and it as aisles after aisles of product. At the far end, Mark can see the connecting hallway with the rest of the rest stop.

There are more people than Mark expected there to be – Mark stumbles into an old man and gets cursed at in the most colourful manner Mark has heard in a while. He brushes it off, far too used to that at this point, and turns the corner.

He finds Renjun, but not how he thought he would. Renjun is struggling with a middle-aged woman over a XXL bag of chips, both tugging it to their sides and stuck in a glaring contest. The lady has a toddler attached to her hip watching the interaction with wide, curious eyes, and a slightly older kid is holding their cart’s handles and rocking on his heels, uncaring. The lady has bleached blonde hair and is dressed in the most typical suburban mom outfit she could have possible chosen.

“Hey, lady, I grabbed it first,” Renjun says through gritted teeth. He’s never been one to be disrespectful towards adults, so he must be at his wit’s end.

“My kids love this,” she snaps.

Mark approaches them, rests an elbow on Renjun’s shoulder and says, “Ma’am, there are five other teenage boys waiting outside in the parking lot who really love these chips. Are you sure you don’t want to give them up? Three of us have been arrested for vandalism,” he adds as an afterthought. Bullshit – Mark and Renjun were valedictorian of their respective graduating classes, Donghyuck and Chenle are theatre kids and the other three are too into their sports to even think about doing anything mildly illegal.

But Mark knows what people see when they look at him. He certainly knows what she’s seeing: the lady takes one look at his face, her eyes trailing over the pierced eyebrow, the septum piercing and the tattoo peeking out of his shirt and she huffs as she leaves, all the while grumbling about delinquents.

“You know,” Renjun says conversationally, “One of these days, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble by doing that.”

“Didn’t you buy one of these already?” Mark shoots back. Renjun doesn’t reply, but his smile says it all.

Renjun’s cart is only half-full, but it has enough carbs and sugar to give anyone a heart attack. Mark can see energy drinks, canned coffee, a gallon of water and orange juice on the bottom, and the top has anything from beef jerky to gummy worms, canned beans, bagged vegetables, chocolate bars and ready-made meals, everything thrown together carelessly, as if Renjun had been walking the corridors and grabbing anything that caught his attention.

They go to the end of the store and cross the short, air conditioned hallway to the remaining areas of the building and into an outdoors shop, where they find camping equipment. They all have their sleeping bags, along with other necessities, but Mark would rather think ahead of an emergency, so he takes another couple extra batteries, a flashlight and some nails. Renjun goes to the fishing gear and grabs some hooks, claiming his are rusty and old.

As Mark weighs the pros and cons of bringing another hunting knife, Chenle comes out of nowhere, barrelling into Mark’s side. The first thing Mark notices is the tremor that’s spreading through Chenle’s body, his hands shaky as he grabs at Mark’s shirt and says, in the calmest voice Mark has heard, “Hyung, you brought your shotgun, right?”

Mark frowns, tries to grasp Chenle’s hands in his own but the younger boy refuses to let go, holding on even tighter. “Yeah, you guys said you wanted to learn how to hunt. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t explain right now,” Chenle shakes his head. “Just, take those knives. And that machete – yeah, the machete. And let’s go, now,” he urges. “We need to get to the gun shop and it’s half a mile away.”

“What’s going on?” Renjun asks, a concerned furrow of his brows pulling his face down. But Chenle doesn’t answer, grabbing a sharp blade and running off in the direction of the registers. Mark and Renjun share a look before they go after him, but not before yanking the machete from the display and throwing it into the cart as well. The clerk behind the shop’s counter tells them that they can pay for everything at the front of the minimarket, and they thank her briefly.

The cashiers are all empty, save for one. The same clerk from earlier is dozing off in his chair, perking up slightly when he sees them approach. Chenle is jittery the entire time it takes to ring up their stuff and pay for everything, dragging Mark and Renjun along by the sleeves of their shirts to their cars. Jisung is pacing restlessly in the empty parking lot, and Mark can see Donghyuck standing on the hood of Renjun’s truck with his phone thrust into the air.

“What the fuck does he think he’s doing?” Renjun hisses.

“Signals are down,” Chenle mutters. He says something else, but it’s too low for either of them to hear.

Jisung races to them when he sees them, demanding to know what took them so long. Chenle only shakes his head and asks if they’ve contacted Jeno or Jaemin yet. Jisung gives a negative and Chenle’s shoulders slump.

“Will someone please tell us what the fuck is going on?” Renjun demands, stomping his foot in frustration. Donghyuck whips his head around and his expression falls, slowly climbing down and meeting them in the back of the truck. “Why were you standing on my car?”

“I was trying to get in touch with Jaemin,” Donghyuck explains, his voice laden with something indescribable – Mark thinks he sounds sad. “But I guess we’re gonna have to leave without them.”

Jisung gasps out a, “No!” before he’s hushed by Donghyuck. “We’ll keep trying, Sunggie. But we need to get going.”

“Not before you tell us what’s happening,” Mark refuses. He has no idea what’s got them so on edge, but their nerves are getting to him and his heart is thudding loudly in his chest.

Donghyuck turns to Jisung and says, “Can you explain to Renjun? I’ll tell Mark.”

Just then, the lady Renjun fought for the chips exits the store, her two kids shouting in laughter. Something passes through Chenle’s face and he whispers, “We need to warn them.”

“What we need is to get to the gun shop, now,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “And then as far away from the city as possible. We’ll also need gas. Let’s go.”

He leaves no room for argument, grabbing the paper bags from the cart and throwing them into the back of the truck, careful enough so nothing breaks. As if on a daze, Jisung helps him, but Chenle has his lower lip caught between his teeth as he looks back and forth at the woman, then at his friends. Making up his mind, he jogs to the lady after muttering a simple, “Be right back,” at Mark.

Renjun is putting their shopping bags away as well, but Mark keeps his eyes on Chenle. The boy is saying something to the lady, and Mark is no expert in body language, but even he can tell he’s pleading with her, his hands held out imploringly. She’d turned her nose up when Chenle approached, but now she’s looking at him worriedly, tugging her kids closer to her body. In the end, she nods, ushers her kids into her car and seemingly thanks Chenle before driving away.

“Come on!” Donghyuck shouts at Chenle. He’s already sitting in the car, tapping impatiently on the door with the hand that’s hanging out of the window.

Chenle looks at the minimarket. From here, Mark can see the clerk turning on the TV at the security booth in the entrance. “But,” Chenle protests. “The boy… the old man…”

“There’s no time!”

Teary eyed, Chenle returns to the car. He refuses to talk to Donghyuck and the silence is suffocating. They’ve been on the road for a few minutes when Mark can’t take it any longer.

“Donghyuck, for the love of God, please tell me what’s going on,” Mark implores.

Donghyuck sighs, pocketing his phone. He’d been trying to reach either Jeno or Jaemin, but the communications are down. Logically, there was no way he could call them like that, but he kept trying, muttering prayers under his breath. Mark hasn’t heard him pray in years.

“I don’t know all the details,” Donghyuck starts shakily. “The radio is down and we could only tune into a local show, but they couldn’t give the full story before they went off the air as well. You know SYG?”

Of course Mark knows SYG. They’re only the biggest research facility in the country, possibly the world. Most modern diseases have been cured by their medicines – and according to many, caused by them as well. But Mark has never been one to believe in conspiracy theories and considered the accusations simple myths.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Well,” Donghyuck licks his lips. “Apparently, they were messing with something they shouldn’t have. There was a leak in their lab in the city and it’s caused an infection. This happened last week but no one heard about it because only their employees were harmed and they were being treated in one of their hospitals. But last night… one of them died. And came back. They said they’ll be evacuating the city soon but a lot of people have been infected already. It’s chaos.”

It takes a couple of seconds for the words to register in Mark’s head. When they do, he has half a mind to laugh, but he doesn’t like to be pranked and they know it, and they respect that. And he thinks that Chenle wouldn’t have approached that woman if it weren’t true – and Jisung has never been a good liar, anyway. And Mark already checked himself: the radio isn’t working, and neither are their phones.

“You’re joking, right?” he tries either way. Donghyuck’s solemn expression doesn’t change. “Hyuck, what do you mean _came back_?”

“You know what I mean,” Donghyuck sniffs. He’s close to sobs, Mark can see it clear as day, and it’s different to his tears when he’s on stage. Those are crocodile tears, created by a laundry hanger hidden strategically in his clothes and pinching his thigh, but this is the real deal. “If what I think is happening is actually happening, we’re gonna need weapons. Look, Renjun is pulling over.”

He is. They’ve reached the gun shop, and it’s gloriously empty. Mark parks in the spot next to Renjun and jumps out, grabbing his backpack as he goes. The store is closed, there doesn’t seem to be anyone inside, it doesn’t seem like there’s been anyone all day, but it’s fully stocked. Mark doesn’t have time to worry about how they’re going to get in because Jisung is already wrapping his hoodie around his elbow and smashing one of the square glasses on the door. Mark watches in shock as Jisung clears the shards of glass left on the wood before he sticks his hand inside and twists the doorknob. The sign that reads they don’t open on weekends sways from side to side when the door opens.

There’s no time to reprimand him for that. They pile into the store and Mark goes straight to the cash register, where he finds boxes of ammo and grabs as many for his shotgun as he can. Next, he browses the counters and pulls out the guns he actually knows how to use and that he thinks he can teach the other guys to – a .38, a .22 and a .40. Renjun is grabbing a revolver from the other side of the store, and Chenle and Jisung are hovering nervously around a pair of shotguns hanging from the wall.

Donghyuck, in the meantime, is at the back of the store. In front of him is a display case full of knives. Mark approaches him, throwing the guns into his backpack along with the boxes of bullets. “We should take some of those,” Mark says vaguely.

Wordlessly, Donghyuck breaks the case, just as Jisung did with the door, and he grabs with terribly shaky hands a blade labelled a modern Bowie. It looks like a regular knife, except it is a bit longer, about the size of a kitchen knife, and has a curved end. “Take your pick,” Donghyuck mutters, and then he’s walking away.

Mark mulls over the options carefully and settles for a skinner. He tucks it into his jeans and says to the other boys to take something as well before exiting the store. He sees the three huddling around the display from his car, Jisung grabbing one of the biggest blades and speed-walking out of the place. None of them seems to be thrilled about being in the store. He turns his eyes to Donghyuck.

The boy is standing at the entrance of the parking lot, looking from one side of the road to the other. Mark knows he’s waiting, hoping, for a glimpse of Jaemin’s car. He can see the anxious tap of his fingers against his thigh, the way he’s rocking on his heels.

Renjun is out of the shop last. Mark can’t see any weapons in his hands, but his bag looks significantly heavier than it was before. The four gather at the entrance, shooting worried glances at Donghyuck. “Let’s give them ten minutes,” Renjun decides.

“Jaemin’s last text to the chat was to keep driving,” Jisung murmurs. “He said they’d catch up, and to keep going north.”

“And we’ll do that,” Renjun assures him. “In ten minutes.”

Those are the most agonizing ten minutes of Mark’s life. They feel like an eternity, and yet, when the time is up, Mark finds himself opening his mouth to ask for another ten minutes. He doesn’t want to leave.

“One of you should get Donghyuck,” Chenle says to Renjun and Mark. He’s still not talking to Donghyuck, and Jisung is attached to his back, resembling an oversized koala, his face hidden in the crease of Chenle’s hoodie.

“I can go, if you want,” Renjun offers. His voice sounds nowhere near its common level of security.

“No,” Mark shakes his head. “You stay here with the kids, start the cars. I’ll get him.”

Mark doesn’t miss the relieved slump of Renjun’s shoulders. He knows Renjun doesn’t want to leave either, and that sending him to Donghyuck will only make the urge to stay stronger, so Mark chooses to spare him of that.

He approaches Donghyuck’s figure with slow steps. Mark doesn’t know what to say to him. How is he supposed to explain to him that they’re going to leave his best friends behind?

“Hyuck,” Mark starts, as softly as he can. He figures that, just in case, he should try to go about this in the gentlest way possible.

“They’re coming,” Donghyuck says to him without looking in his direction. His eyes are trained on the road. “They promised.”

Mark feels his throat close up. “Hyuckie,” he tries, but Donghyuck shakes his head adamantly and snaps, “Don’t call me that. Only Jaemin calls me that.”

Taken aback, all Mark can do is nod. “I’m sorry. Donghyuck, we have to go. We need to find a gas station before shit hits the fan.”

Mark knows that Donghyuck knows he’s right. But in the face of a choice, Donghyuck will always choose his friends. It’s a quality Mark loves about him, but it’s dangerous to them right now. “Just five more minutes, hyung. Please.”

Unable to say no, Mark just nods. Donghyuck gulps and he reaches for Mark’s hand. Mark lets him interlock their fingers and waits with him. This time, the minutes drag by slower than ever and there’s still no sign of Jaemin’s Escalade. Donghyuck is restless; his hand gripping Mark’s sporadically before he relaxes, and then tightening again.

Mark is two seconds away from telling Donghyuck they need to go when Donghyuck sees something. He’s tense, his entire body coiled tight, and Mark follows his line of sight to the horizon. There, making its way down the deserted highway in their direction is a car. An Escalade, to be exact.

“Thank God,” Donghyuck whispers. Behind them, Renjun spots the car as well and he shouts out in glee. Jaemin must see them because he speeds up, and he’s pulling into the parking lot in no time. The second he and Jeno step out of the car, Donghyuck’s entire body convulses, his breath coming out in a long swoosh and going back in immediately, and he breaks away from Mark to run towards them.

Jeno is closer, and he catches Donghyuck before they tumble to the ground. Mark walks over, smiling a bit at how Donghyuck seems to be shaking, close to falling apart, but Jeno holds him together. Jaemin is smothered between Jisung and Renjun, and Mark lets Chenle cling to him as they wait for their friends to be released.

Jaemin is allowed freedom first, but Donghyuck shakes his head when they try prying him away from Jeno, breathing heavily, and it isn’t until Jaemin talks to him that Donghyuck pulls back, but it’s only to drag Jaemin into his arms. Unlike with Jeno, he’s talking, and he’s punching Jaemin’s back with his fists, and Mark can hear him sobbing.

“What the fuck took you so long?” Donghyuck can be heard demanding.

Jaemin chuckles, petting Donghyuck’s back. “Sorry. We got held up at the intersection. Shit’s wild out there, but it doesn’t seem to have reached the outskirts. We still have time to make it to the cabin.”

Mark had forgotten all about the cabin. With the panic and the fear, the real reason behind their trip had disappeared to the back of his mind: they were going out to his uncle’s cabin to spend a week learning how to hunt before school restarted. They’re still a day away from reaching the property by car, hoping against all odds that the roads are empty and they aren’t held back, but it’s doable.

As he suddenly remembers another detail, Mark’s eyes light up and he says, “Guys! I totally forgot, I talked to my uncle a week ago, you know, to work out the trip, and he told me he’d recently installed an electrical plan. It’s sun-powered, so there’s definitely going to be energy there. He also said he’d been hunting and that he left some game in the basement for us, in the freezer.”

“So, food and electricity,” Jeno nods. “Shit, hyung, it’s so good to see you,” he breathes out.

Mark smiles. “Likewise. Now let’s get out of here. Hyuck, you can go with them, if you want?”

“Are you kidding me?” Donghyuck snorts. He pulls apart from Jaemin to glare at him. “I called eternal dibs on riding shotgun with you – Chenle isn’t stealing my spot.”

Chenle mutters a few choice words under his breath. Donghyuck deflates, tries reaching out to him, but he gets the cold shoulder. “Or,” Donghyuck says, as a second thought, “Maybe I should. Okay.”

Jeno and Jaemin exchange equally confused glances, but no one fills them in. Donghyuck shakes his head and gets into the backseat of the Escalade, and even through the tinted windows, Mark can vaguely make out the shape of him sulking. Chenle approaches the new arrivals and hesitates for a second, then throws himself at their arms. Jeno squeezes him in a tight hug, Jaemin petting his hair, but Chenle pulls away and he’s gone as soon as he came, diving into Mark’s convertible. Renjun shakes his head as well, gives Jeno a half-hug and disappears into his truck, shouting at Jisung to hurry it up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two! warnings: there's a minor character death, panic attacks and homophobic slurs

They’ve barely made it out of the parking lot when Jeno finds himself with a lapful of Donghyuck. The boy had been sitting in the back, but he must have been either really worried or really scared, most likely both, because he wiggles his way into the passenger’s seat, accidentally kicking Jaemin’s arm with his flailing limbs.

“Hey,” Jeno laughs. Donghyuck is sprawled across him, his head awkwardly resting on the door, and his feet in Jaemin’s lap. “You can get more comfortable, if you want, I can handle it.”

“Thank fuck,” Donghyuck sighs, immediately shifting so he’s more or less sitting upright. This way, he’s nestled under Jeno’s arm, and his feet remain where they were, but at least he’s not three seconds away from spraining his neck. He still has tear marks fresh on his face, and Jeno wipes them away with a gentle touch. Donghyuck blushes but doesn’t bat him away.

“We’re sorry,” Jaemin says softly. He’s driving with only one hand, the other resting on Donghyuck’s calf, his fingers rubbing into the bit of exposed skin above his ankle – Donghyuck should have bought new jeans a while ago. “We tried to get there sooner, it’s just…”

“It’s crazy in the city,” Jeno finishes for him. “But it gets better the further out you get.”

“Has there been any news?” Donghyuck asks. They’re whispering, even if it’s just the three of them in the car.

Jeno denies with his head. “Not much. The government said they’re doing damage control, to stay home, to ration the food and the water. But everyone’s in a panic – there have been raids, thefts, explosions. It looked like mass exodus in the intersection. Thankfully, Jaemin thought about taking the back roads, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

Apparently, mentioning the possibility of them not making it back to him was the wrong thing to say. Donghyuck tears up, grasps at Jeno’s jacket and says, in an attempt to joke, “I always knew Jaemin’s crazy ideas would do well at some point,” but his voice is wet and patchy, unshed tears brimming in his eyes. Jeno pulls him closer with the arm he has on his shoulders and Donghyuck snuggles in, peering at Jaemin through clumped eyelashes to say, “Jaem. I’m glad you’re here now.”

“I know, baby,” Jaemin reassures him, squeezing around his ankle.

“What did you get at the shop?” Jeno asks Donghyuck. It might be better to distract him.

Donghyuck shakes himself out of his daze to look at Jeno and says, “Guns. A lot of them, actually. We also have knives and shit like that. Mark got a machete from the minimarket. We also have enough food to last us for a while. We should be fine.”

Jeno nods to show he understands. Jaemin hums pensively and adds, “My mom packed a bunch of first-aid kits for our trip – we can use those, as well.”

Ten minutes later, Donghyuck is snoring quietly into Jeno’s shirt. “He must have been so worried,” Jeno whispers, brushing away a stray strand of hair from his forehead. All of Donghyuck’s friends know that Donghyuck can get carried away with his emotions and, more often than not, he crashes the moment he’s granted some reprieve from his feelings.

Jaemin glances at them briefly, his heart warming when he spots the open love in Jeno’s face as he looks down at who is, undoubtedly, the cutest 1/3 of their relationship. “You need to get your face under control before we reunite with the others,” Jaemin teases.

Jeno makes a confused sound. “One look at you and they’ll know all about it. And you know Donghyuck isn’t ready to tell them,” Jaemin explains. Their relationship is still fresh, barely out of its diapers, and Donghyuck doesn’t want to ruin it by speaking up too early. He’s aware they thought it was about being embarrassed, that he’s not proud of them, but he’s just scared – scared of their reactions, scared of being rejected.

“I know,” Jeno sighs. “And you know I’ve been good about keeping things under wrap. Do you know how hard it is to keep a secret from Renjun?” he whines.

Jaemin is aware, yes. It’s about as hard as it is to lie to Jisung and Chenle, and as hard as it must be for Donghyuck to lie to Mark. But they do what they have to do to make sure all three of them are happy and safe.

“I do,” Jaemin chuckles. “Oh, we’re here.”

Jeno looks out the window and sees that yes, they are. The gas station is in the middle of nowhere, the ground sandy and dirty instead of gravelled, a sign on top of the convenience store naming it Whitey’s. Mark’s convertible is already parked at one of the pumps, and Jisung and Chenle are gathering a bunch of those red tanks from the entrance of the store to fill with gas. Renjun is walking towards the store, probably to look for more provisions.

“Wake him up, yeah?” Jaemin says. Then, he’s turning off the engine and unlocking the doors, exiting the car in the next second.

“Hyuck,” Jeno whispers, shaking Donghyuck lightly. “Wake up.”

Donghyuck stirs slowly, moaning in protest when he realizes what’s happening, but he sits up anyway, rubbing his eyes tiredly and blindly climbing towards the backseat. Jeno opens his door and steps out into the sunlight, squinting as he gets readjusted to the brightness after being cooped up in Jaemin’s tinted car for so long.

“Hey,” Mark greets them. Donghyuck is barely awake, however, and he only manages to croak out something in return before he leans against him and closes his eyes once more. Mark grants him an amused smile and lets him sleep on him all he wants. Jaemin has gone after Renjun, trusting Jeno to refill his tank. “We should take some oil, too, just in case,” Mark says to him.

Jeno gets right on the job, finding different containers he can use and filling them with car oil. He stores them in the back of Renjun’s truck, along with the rest of their things, and goes into the store to meet up with Jaemin and Renjun. “Refill Jaemin’s car as well, yeah?” he says to Mark. The older boy makes an affirmative grunt and readjusts Donghyuck’s hold on him.

The establishment, just as the gun shop, is devoid of people. Unlike the gun shop, there is no reason for it – the sign says, very clearly, that it is supposed to be open 24/7. Yet there is not a soul in sight, no one other than them. And it is odd, because the place looks well taken care of, the counter and other surfaces clean and dustless.

Renjun and Jaemin are standing in front of the refrigerators, arguing over the different drinks offered. Jaemin is clinging to Renjun’s back, his chin hooked over the shorter boy’s shoulder, and he’s swaying them side to side. Jeno snorts, making his presence known. Both of their eyes light up at the sight of him, but where Renjun has his usual Jeno look (fond, but a bit exasperated), Jaemin is just one hundred percent whipped.

“Getting cosy?” Jeno teases. Jaemin burns bright red, not meeting Jeno’s eyes, and Renjun just rolls his own.

“Please, take him away,” Renjun huffs.

“What are we getting?” Jeno asks, instead of providing any help. “Whatever we can carry?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Renjun mumbles. He goes back to inspecting the fridges, and Jaemin lets him go to pester Jeno instead. Jaemin has that grin, the one that doesn’t spell anything other than trouble, and Jeno throws his hands up.

“Stay,” Jeno warns. It’s not very threatening, given the smile that breaks across his face within seconds, and Jaemin lunges at him.

They stumble around the shop, short hiccups of laughter and vague attempts at throwing the other off, but soon enough they get too caught up in one another to keep play fighting. There’s a short moment in which they just stand there, Jaemin’s arms on Jeno’s shoulders, and Jeno is _this_ close to kissing him, regardless of Renjun’s presence in the room, when a click comes from behind Jaemin’s head.

It takes a second for Jeno’s eyes to adjust. At first, all he can see is the barrel of a gun, then the finger on the trigger, and finally the man attached to it. He’s old, probably in his sixties, western looking, and his eyes are mean, cold. Hateful.

“Leave,” the man says, and from here Jeno can smell the alcohol in his breath, can see the deranged expression on his face. There are long, dark, vertical lines under his eyes, the skin sunken and pale. “No dirty faggots are going to steal from me.”

His next words are too awful for Jeno to think about. And besides, he’s too busy trying to find a way to get Jaemin away from that gun to really care. Jeno is also searching for Renjun with his eyes, but he’s nowhere to be found. Jeno hopes he left the store.

“Calm down,” Jeno attempts to move, to stand between Jaemin and the gun, but the man presses his lips in a tight line and pushes the gun to the back of Jaemin’s head.

“Get the fuck back,” the man spits. He continues to spew words from his mouth, whatever ugly little insult he can find in his head. Jeno feels cold spread across his body, a shiver that settles on his nape and tickles his ears. “Don’t think I won’t shoot your brains out, rat, I won’t hesitate. It’ll make good deco for my business, don’t you think?”

“You either get that gun out of my friends’ faces or you’re the one getting their brains blown out.”

Jeno can’t see Renjun, but the man glances over his shoulder once and huffs, letting the gun dangle from his finger for Renjun to take. “Get out,” Renjun says to them. Jeno doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs Jaemin’s elbow and drags him out, trusting Renjun to do the same. Right as they step foot on the sandy road, Jeno breathes out, but the tension returns tenfold when he realizes that Renjun isn’t with them. Still, he forces Jaemin to keep walking.

They’re at the cars, Donghyuck wide-awake and demanding to know why they’re in such a rush, when the sound of a gunshot rings out. Mark freezes on his way to them, and Chenle and Jisung make the same whimpering sound at the back of their throats. Jeno turns back to the store and waits with bated breath, dread settling in his tummy like hot coal.

Renjun walks out seconds later. He’s covered in blood, but there isn’t enough to be his. As he gets closer, Jeno can see how hard he’s trembling and the bruise on his face. However, Renjun only shakes his head when he’s asked about what happened, throwing something at Mark and giving Jeno his car keys. They all watch him get into his truck and slamming the door shut.

“Jisung,” Jeno whispers. Jisung looks at him with a pained expression. “You go with Jaemin and Donghyuck in Jaemin’s car, alright? I’ll drive Injun.”

Jisung nods once. Mark looks at his hand, at whatever Renjun had chucked at him – it’s a bag of fish tacos. Mark makes a despaired sound and dumps the bag on his car. No words are exchanged between them as they clean up, everyone getting back into their vehicles.

Jeno finds Renjun sat in an oval position in the passenger’s side, his head resting on his knees and his eyes unseeing. Jeno puts a comforting hand on the crown of his head, but Renjun shakes him off right away. Jeno sighs, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of the pumps, careful not to hit the sidewalk in the tight space he has to move.

After half an hour of driving, Renjun speaks up.

“I shot a man.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure if Renjun is talking to him, to himself, or if he’s taking to God. And either way, Jeno has no idea what the fuck he’s supposed to say in a situation like this. His best friend is suffering and Jeno has no words of comfort to provide. What a great fucking friend he is, isn’t he?

“He was going to kill my best friend,” Renjun continues. So he’s not taking to Jeno, alright. At least Jeno doesn’t have to wrack his brain to find something intelligent to respond. “He was going to kill my best friend, called him a faggot and an abomination, and I shot him. And now his blood is in my hands. I shot him.”

Renjun continues to mutter the last sentence over and over, sounding borderline hysterical, and he starts to scratch at his arms. Jeno takes one hand off the wheel to put it over Renjun’s, but Renjun is too far gone and eventually Jeno has to pull over or else they’ll crash. It’s an abrupt move and it jostles Renjun against Jeno, yet he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Renjun, Renjun,” Jeno repeats his name, struggling to stop Renjun from going mad. Their friends are stopping as well, but Jeno keeps his focus on Renjun, grabbing his hands and keeping them far apart from each other. He tries to catch Renjun’s eye, chasing his gaze as it bounces around the car. “Injunnie, it’s just me, it’s Jeno, hey,” Jeno grits out, struggling with Renjun as the Chinese boy writhes around and fights against his hold.

Minute by minute, Renjun relaxes a little more, until he goes completely lax in Jeno’s grip. He’s breathing like he just ran a marathon, but his eyes are focused once more and he looks up at Jeno from his slumped position, asks, “Jeno?” and Jeno nods, breathing out a sigh of relief. He’d been close to crying and if Renjun hadn’t returned to him just when he did, Jeno probably would have lost his mind.

“I killed someone,” Renjun whispers. He’s definitely talking to Jeno now. “Oh my god, Jeno, I killed someone.”

“You saved me and Jaemin,” Jeno tells him. “He would have probably killed us if it weren’t for you. You saved us, Renjun.”

Renjun doesn’t say anything to that. But Jeno can feel him start to tear up, and soon Renjun is bawling in his arms like a baby, wetting Jeno’s shirt. Jeno can do nothing but pet his back and try his best to comfort him, holding back his own waterworks at hearing him – Renjun has always been the one to break his heart when he cries.

Outside, Donghyuck and Mark crowd around the truck, peering in through the window. Jeno meets their eyes and points at his wrist, silently asking them for some time. Mark gets the message and nods, drags Donghyuck away when he tries to stay behind.

It takes a while for Renjun to stop crying. Jeno doesn’t know how much time has passed, but sooner or later Renjun is reduced to sniffles and the eventual hiccup. Even then, Jeno keeps a soothing hand on his nape and shushes him for another couple of minutes, until Renjun is completely quiet.

“Thank you,” Renjun whispers. He stays with his face buried in Jeno’s chest, and Jeno wonders, remotely, if the tears/fists combination will be too terrible on his shirt. And then he feels like absolute shit for worrying about that.

“Stay here,” Jeno tells him, trying to pull away. It’s a struggle; Renjun protests and tightens his fists on Jeno’s t-shirt, but Jeno manages to make him let go with the promise that he’s just going to fetch his clothes from the back. “So you can change, okay?”

Renjun nods. Jeno makes sure to be as fast as possible as he goes, climbing on the foothold and rummaging around all the crap they’ve stored there. He finds Renjun’s duffel bag buried under shopping bags and giant bags of chips, and he fishes a new shirt and pants, the firsts he can get his hands on, and returns to the truck’s cabin.

“I can give you some privacy,” Jeno stutters. Renjun either doesn’t hear him or chooses to ignore him, his hands shaky as he unbuckles his belt and drags his pants down his legs. His shirt goes next and Jeno has to look away, feeling too hot under the collar to be healthy.

It’s not like he’s never seen Renjun in various estates of undress before. They went to the beach last summer, for Pete’s sake, and underwear is just like a swimsuit. But Renjun hadn’t been going to the gym last summer - it’s not like he is ripped now or anything like that - and he isn’t the skinny little kid he was. Renjun makes a confused sound and Jeno has to drag his eyes somewhere else when he realizes he was caught ogling at his best friend.

 _Jaemin will have a field day if he finds out,_ Jeno thinks. This is exactly why Jeno isn’t telling his boyfriend about his short moment of panic.

“We can go now,” Renjun says quietly. Jeno pretends like he doesn’t notice the red that sits on his cheeks, or the way his grey sweater is hanging off him. “I’m sorry I freaked out like that,” he continues.

Jeno shakes his head adamantly, grasping Renjun’s hand and squeezing for emphasis. “No, don’t be, okay?” He gives Renjun an insistent stare until he agrees - his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you ready to go?”

Renjun nods again. Jeno sticks his hand out the window and signals for the rest to get going, falling in line between Mark’s convertible and Jaemin’s escalade. Renjun visibly hesitates, shifting in his seat, until he makes up his mind and scoots closer to Jeno, resting his head on Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno can feel him start to cry again, but he’s quiet now, and Jeno lets him be.

The sun is starting to go down when their phones ring. Renjun bolts right up, searching for them like crazy, and the incessant notifications are almost enough to give Jeno an aneurysm. Jeno sees Donghyuck thrust the upper half of his body through the window of Mark’s car and shout something at them that gets lost in the wind.

“What is he saying?” Jeno squints to read his lips, but he unfortunately never learned how to.

“To keep driving,” Renjun mutters. “And to check the group chat.”

Renjun does just that, unlocking his phone and bypassing every other notification to open their chat. Jeno waits for him to scroll past the old messages he was just getting until he gets to whatever Donghyuck wants them to see.

“It’s a video,” Renjun tells him. “Forwarded. Someone probably sent it to him.”

“What’s in it?” Jeno urges.

Renjun rolls his eyes and tells him to be patient. At least he’s behaving like himself again, even if it’s just for a second. “It’s loaded,” he says.

The video is, for starters, loud. Jeno has a hard time distinguishing between the shouts of the recorder and the shouts from everybody else, especially over the sounds of absolute chaos going on in the background. Renjun returns to his previous spot by Jeno, and his warmth provides some comfort as Jeno, little by little, catches onto what’s going on in the tape.

“Oh my God,” Renjun murmurs.

There are people screaming. Jeno can hear what sounds like the police demanding order, but they’re drowned out by the crowd, until the first shot is fired. Renjun flinches and almost drops his phone, and Jeno is forced to drive with one hand again so he can take Renjun’s hand. Renjun takes a shaky breath and restarts the video, having accidentally pause it as he got startled. Jeno has his eyes trained on the road, but he doesn’t think he needs to see to know what’s going on.

It’s a flurry of shots after that. There’s a sudden moment of silence that stretches for an eternity, broken with a cacophony of shouts. But these don’t sound outraged or demanding, they sound scared, terrified out of their minds.

“What is it?” Jeno asks.

Renjun doesn’t reply right away. His eyes leave the screen slowly, his phone dropping to the seat next to him. “I think,” Renjun says, pauses and then continues, “I think we should be glad we got all those weapons.”

Mark parks ahead of them, then. Jeno and Jaemin do the same behind him, in the edge of an open field. Jeno thinks it looks like any other field this side of the country and the sense of familiarity it brings him – it’s a little exhilarating. They regroup behind the cars, and Donghyuck skips over to Jeno and Renjun, linking arms with them.

“Did we all see the video?” Mark asks. He sounds uncharacteristically sullen.

“I didn’t,” Jeno raises his hand. “I was driving.”

He’s handed a phone – judging by the case, it’s Chenle’s – and he taps the screen to find it’s already been unlocked and the video is waiting for him. Jeno presses play and his breath gets caught in his throat.

Chenle must have been watching the video because it starts playing around the minute mark, where the more _exciting_ stuff is going down. There’s someone on the ground, the focus of the recorder, their face bloody and unrecognizable, their limbs bent at unnatural angles. They’re twitching, although convulsing on the ground might be a better description, even though everything points to them being dead – Jeno doesn’t think anyone could survive those wounds.

The most terrible part might be what comes next, however. The crowd starts to disperse in terror when the body bolts upright and starts trashing around, presumably in an attempt to get up, but all it can do is frost at the mouth and swing its arms wildly. The video ends seconds later, and the screen freezes with the corpse’s face turned in its direction.

Jeno gives the phone back. He feels queasy, like he’s going to throw up, but Renjun beats him to it. Renjun rips his arm away from Donghyuck and runs into the bushes, not getting too far before the sounds of barfing reach their ears. Donghyuck follows him, and Jeno can barely make out the shape of them hunched over before Mark blocks his view.

“I texted my dad,” Mark says. “But I don’t know if he got it. It seems like the further out we get, the more bars our phones have.”

“Jisung noticed the same,” Jaemin nods. “About a mile back we got one bar. It wasn’t enough to call or text, but he kept an eye on it. We were at three bars when the messages started flooding in. How the fuck that’s supposed to work, I don’t know, because usually it’s the other way around.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense,” Chenle frowns and crosses his arms. “But the important thing is that we have some signal. Should we try calling anyone?”

There’s a general consensus to try. They all hit dead ends with their parents, until Jisung snaps his fingers and he tries something else – he calls his aunt in Malaysia. “That’s gonna cost you a lot,” Chenle points out.

“Does it look like I care?” Jisung raises his eyebrows, but the look is quickly replaced by widened eyes as he exclaims, “Auntie!”

There’s a flurry of words that Jeno can hear from afar, but can’t tell apart. Jisung stutters, asks his aunt to slow down, please, I don’t understand, and then continues to speak to her for some agonizing minutes. Renjun and Donghyuck return just in time for Jisung to hang up, Renjun pale and sweaty, and Donghyuck clinging to him like a child holding on to their mother. They don’t stop when they reach the group and instead go to the truck, where Donghyuck fishes for a bottle of water to hand over to Renjun.

“What did she say?” Chenle urges.

Jisung opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. He repeats the motion several times, at a complete loss for words. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this,” he giggles, and he sounds about the same Renjun did earlier in the car. Jeno hopes he doesn’t have to deal with another breakdown; the first one was emotionally exhausting enough.

“Guys,” Jisung says slowly, “We’re in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT IM HERE FOR LIKE 2 SECONDS

“What do you mean a zombie apocalypse?”

Donghyuck can’t believe what he’s hearing. He feels numb, though half of him is convinced this is a joke. However, he knows it isn’t. Around him, all his friends exhibit the same expression of confusion, incredulity, fear – Donghyuck suspects he has it on his face, as well.

Next to him, Renjun shakes even worse than before. Ever since the incident at the gas station, approximately two hours earlier, Renjun hasn’t been all there, and minutes ago he was throwing up what little he had in his stomach, and then some more. Donghyuck felt sick when Renjun could only retch up bile and nothing else, but the compassion overpowered the disgust. Now, Donghyuck takes Renjun’s hand in a silent offer of support.

Jaemin, the first one to react to Jisung’s news, asks again, “Jisung, what do you mean a zombie apocalypse?”

With six pairs of eyes trained on him, Jisung has to take a step back. “That’s what my aunt called it,” he stammers. “She said that’s what they’re calling it on the news. That watching the footage is like watching a horror movie or a videogame or something. She also said that the infection hasn’t spread outside of the country and that the international community is sending help, but she said it doesn’t look good. That the virus spreads through blood particles or something? So there are a lot of doubts about how they’re going to handle it. Everytime they shoot one infected, it stays on the ground for minutes and then gets right back up, as if the bullets didn’t do anything.”

“Did she say anything else?” Renjun croaks out. His throat is hoarse, destroyed from the vomiting.

“Kind of?” Jisung shrugs one shoulder. “At first, she was hysterical, and I could barely understand her. Something about militarizing the big cities.”

A silence of understanding goes around the group. The news doesn’t settle well on Donghyuck, or on any of them, but at least they have an idea of what’s going on in their country. After the information sunk in, Mark cleared his throat, “We should get going,” he suggests, “Before it gets any darker.”

Just then, Renjun stats muttering something under his breath, shaking again and struggling to get away from Donghyuck; Donghyuck doesn’t want to, but he untangles himself from Renjun and shoves Jisung into the nearest car, which happens to be Jaemin’s Escalade. As it is, Jeno is ushering Chenle into the convertible.

“He’ll be okay,” Donghyuck assures Jisung. Jisung hadn’t said anything, but Donghyuck could hear him overthinking.

“I guess,” Jisung sighs. “But will any of us?”

“You got a point there, buddy,” Donghyuck sighs as well.

As he peers out the window, Donghyuck sees Jaemin trying to comfort an increasingly frantic Renjun. Mark is on his other side with a soothing hand on Renjun’s shoulder, but Renjun bats him away and backs off, his hands held out in front of him. Renjun is shouting and Donghyuck lunges to the driver’s side and locks the doors before Jisung can bolt out, getting cursed at in return. It doesn’t matter to him, because Renjun is getting a little violent out there and Donghyuck wouldn’t forgive himself if Jisung got hurt.

Renjun lashes out at Jaemin’s attempt to grab his arms, throws a punch aimed at his cheek – it lands on the side of his neck and Jaemin stumbles back, chokes on several coughs and his hands come up to grasp at his throat. Renjun apparently doesn’t notice; too busy scratching at his own cheeks and temples, where some of the dried blood still stands. Mark shouts at him to stop, his tone desperate and scared, but Renjun shouts back even louder to stay away, to leave him alone.

There’s a brief moment in which Donghyuck can’t see what’s happening because he needs to stop Jisung from unlocking the doors and sprinting out of the car. Jisung curses at him again, and once more, Donghyuck doesn’t care.

It’s not until Jeno approaches him, arms stretched out, speaking to him too low for Donghyuck to catch, that Renjun allows him to get close. Renjun doesn’t exactly relax; he keeps scraping his face and murmuring under his breath, but Jeno is able to pry his hands away slowly. Donghyuck watches as Jeno pulls Renjun into a half-hug – it’s only half because Jeno has one hand holding onto Renjun’s wrists and cradling them to his chest, his free arm wrapped around Renjun’s shoulders.

Something strange goes through Donghyuck’s body at the sight of the two of them. It’s not necessarily bad, but it’s something, alright - he can’t remember the last time he felt like this. Vaguely, Donghyuck wonders if it was something he ate. While in the car, Donghyuck ate some of the chips he’d brought from home – he had to help feed Mark, and it was completely gross, because Mark is the kind of guy who will drive with both hands on the wheel no matter what. It could have been that.

Donghyuck is broken out of his reverie when two taps come on his window. Jaemin is beckoning the two of them outside, his neck red and looking sore. Jisung gets out of the car with a huff and Donghyuck rolls his eyes – Chenle is already mad at him, what’s the harm in Jisung being angry as well?

Mark takes a deep breath. He has his eyes trained on Jeno and Renjun still, a little ways from them, Jeno looking inside Renjun’s duffel bag for something – it’s probably his medicine - but he diverts his attention back to the rest of them when Chenle clings to his arm and asks what he wants. “We should take turns driving,” Mark says, “So we can get to my uncle’s cabin as soon as possible. Hyuck, I can drive until ten and then you can take over?”

“Yeah, sure,” Donghyuck nods.

“Jisung can drive as well, right?” Jaemin asks. Jisung shrugs, nodding to show he’s okay with it.

“And, uh,” Mark scratches his neck. “Chenle, can you go with Jeno and Renjun? Jeno can’t drive all night and Renjun… can’t drive.”

“Ugh,” Chenle moans. “Do I really have to go with the lovebirds?”

That strange feeling is back. Donghyuck doesn’t know how to call it, but he thinks he knows what is causing it.

“Let’s get going,” Mark says instead. They all pile into the cars again, and Donghyuck has one last look at Jeno – he’s standing outside the passenger’s seat of Renjun’s truck, brushing hair out of Renjun’s forehead, just how he does to Donghyuck and Jaemin – and he has to look away before. Before what? Donghyuck groans and buries his face in his hands. Mark gives him a curious look that Donghyuck ignores in favour of spiralling down a rabbit hole of self-doubt for approximately twenty minutes, when Mark says,

“Poor Renjun, uh?” Donghyuck knows that tone. Mark’s _fishing._

“Yeah,” is all Donghyuck utters.

“And Jeno’s been really great with him,” Mark continues.

“Mark, just say whatever you want to say,” Donghyuck sighs.

“I saw you and Jeno making out at the Porter’s Christmas party,” Mark blurts out. “I should have told you, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Donghyuck waves him off. He suddenly feels more tired than he was before. “I. You’re not mad I didn’t tell you earlier?”

“Why should I be?” Mark asks. He sounds genuinely confused.

“Because,” Donghyuck shrugs uncomfortably, “We’ve told each other everything since we were nine? And having a boyfriend is a pretty big deal?”

Mark doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. “Hyuck, I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, but I’m not upset. I can kind of imagine your reasons – but if you thought that I wouldn’t be okay with it… that does kind of hurt. Did you think I wouldn’t accept it?”

“A little bit,” Donghyuck admits. Telling Renjun, Chenle or Jisung was never something he was particularly worried about – okay, that’s a lie, he’s fucking terrified - but telling Mark? Son of their local church’s pastor? It freaked him out, big time. “I’m really sorry, Mark.”

“No, no,” Mark shakes his head. “I know I didn’t have the best reaction when you told me you were gay, so I guess I only have myself to blame.”

That’s an understatement. Donghyuck was fourteen when he came out to Mark, and after Mark’s little outburst, they didn’t speak for weeks. Worst time of their lives, if you asked either of them.

“Are we okay?” Donghyuck asks hopefully.

“Of course,” Mark smiles. “So about Renjun…”

“Dear Lord,” Donghyuck groans. “What about Renjun?”

“Nothing, nothing, just,” Mark stutters, “Chenle’s comment about him and Jeno… and everything else, I mean.”

“What everything else?” Donghyuck side-eyes him.

“Um,” Mark croaks, “Just. Them.”

“Jeno isn’t cheating on me, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Donghyuck has to bite back the word ‘us’ because Mark only seems to know about him and Jeno and he doesn’t want to out Jaemin like that. Not that Jaemin hasn’t been out since he was born, but.

“Good, good,” Mark sighs. “I would hate to have to beat his ass.”

“He’s more of an ass beater, but sure.”

“TMI, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck giggles. Mark snorts and shakes his head, but he doesn’t remain silent for long. “Just to be clear, Jeno _is_ being good to you, right?”

Donghyuck smiles goofily; he just can’t tell if it’s because of the thought of Jeno or Mark’s protectiveness.

“He is,” Donghyuck tells him. “Relax, dad.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry. Relax, daddy.”

“I am pulling over and throwing you out of this car.”

Donghyuck giggles again. Mark rolls his eyes and encourages him to take a nap with a reminder that they’ll be switching in a couple of hours and he needs to be refreshed if he’s going to be driving the night shift. Donghyuck is exhausted, anyway, and he crashes in minutes into a dreamless sleep until he feels the car pulling over and Mark is shaking him awake.

Donghyuck is going around the front of the car to take Mark’s place, high-fiving Mark as he goes, when he catches a glimpse of Renjun cuddling up to Jeno in his truck, Chenle giving them a disgusted glance. Renjun is completely out of it – Donghyuck suspects his medication has something to do with that – and Jeno is munching on one thing or another, totally unaware of the koala in his arms, but it still sinks his stomach and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Wait here,” he mutters to Mark.

The road is completely dark, lit up only by the headlights of their cars, and Donghyuck almost steps on a snake on his way to Jaemin. Donghyuck screams, he hops out of the way and tries to climb onto Jaemin’s shoulders for safety. Mark shines his phone’s flashlight on it and sighs when he realizes it’s just a tiny little thing. “You’re fine, Hyuck.”

“I knew that.”

“Then why are you using Jaemin as a stepping stool?”

“I’m… not,” Donghyuck finishes lamely, puts both feet back on the ground and smiles sheepishly at Jaemin. He gets an endeared shake of his head and Jaemin asks, “Was there anything you needed?”

To be totally honest, Donghyuck feels silly telling him his worries. Jaemin isn’t going to make fun of him, Donghyuck knows this, but he can’t help but think that he’s overreacting. Then, Jaemin gives him that smile of his, in a smaller scale of its usual size but just as radiant, and Donghyuck finds the courage to say, “I wanted to walk about something, but… it might be better if I wait until we get to the cabin.”

“What about?” Jaemin asks, nonplussed.

“Jeno,” Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate this time. Jaemin nods, pouting a little and Donghyuck powers on, “It’s honestly nothing, I’m sure, I just… it’s nothing,” he concludes, shaking his head.

“You can tell me when we get to the cabin, yeah?” Jaemin puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, giving him a reassuring grin and Donghyuck can’t help but melt into the touch. He nods, shoots Jaemin a grateful smile and promptly runs away, slamming the car door shut when he’s in.

“Don’t break my car,” Mark threatens sleepily. He’s curled into a ball in the passenger’s seat, his jacket thrown messily over him, the windows rolled up, the hood down and the heater turned up. “I happen to like this car.”

“Are you cold?” Donghyuck asks, furrowing his brows. He attempts to lay a hand on Mark’s forehead to check his temperature, but Mark bats him away. “Please don’t get sick,” he pleads.

“I’m not,” Mark says. “I’m just half-asleep. Don’t worry about me.”

Needless to say, Donghyuck worries. He waits for Mark to start snoring before laying a hand on his cheek and pulling it away with a hiss. Mark is burning up, and as the night progresses, his sleep becomes fitful and his breathing grows laboured.

Donghyuck has enough when midnight strikes and Mark hasn’t stopped shivering - he does what he promised Mark he would never do: Donghyuck texts Jaemin while driving to ask if he has cold medicine. The wait for the answer is long and excruciating, but he gets an affirmative and Donghyuck lets out a sigh of relief. It’s only a matter of time before they arrive to the cabin and there Donghyuck can force the pills down Mark’s throat if he has t0 – Mark hates pills, medicine in general. He’s one of those kids who never got vaccinated because his mom is one of those crazy, vegans, vaccines-cause-autism ladies, and Donghyuck thinks it’s a miracle Mark hasn’t died yet. His rebellion against her is eating a whole lot of non-vegan meals when she’s not in the general vicinity, but he never quite got around to liking medicine.

In what feels like no time at all, Donghyuck sees the familiar road that’s supposed to take them away from the highway and into Mr. Lee’s private land. The only security is a chain-link fence, padlocked, to which Mark has the key. Donghyuck runs out, shivering at the cold air, and unlocks the passageway as quickly as he can, lets the other two cars go through first and going in last so he can close up again, feeling like he’s going to freeze his balls off if he stays outside for any longer.

Mark’s uncle isn’t a rich man. Donghyuck only met him once, when he was twelve years old and he received an invitation to spend a weekend with the Lee’s at the cabin. So he knows what to expect as they approach the property: a wooden house of two stories, built over the course of three years by the owner himself, with a swing on the porch – Donghyuck remembers he and Mark sitting there and eating cheesecake while watching a meteorite shower – and big logs as stairs leading up to the front door.

“We’re here," Donghyuck sighs. He hadn’t noticed how nervous he was, or how terrified, until this moment right here, in which he knows he’s fine now. He shakes Mark by the shoulder and says, “Wake up, Mark.”

Mark snorts awake, disorientated. Donghyuck can see the exact moment in which he realizes where he is, who he’s with and why, and it’s heart breaking. Donghyuck finds himself wishing he could keep Mark in that blissful moment of unawareness, because he experienced the same reality crash earlier in the day and it isn’t pretty.

They all pile into the house in silence. Donghyuck feels along the walls to look for a switch, but the cabin remains plunged in darkness. “It’s probably the fuse box,” Mark explains. Donghyuck can’t see him in the dark, but he thinks he hears him rummaging around his bag for his flashlight. He’s right; Mark turns it on and it’s enough to illuminate his face and a little space around him. “I’m gonna go around the back and see if I can find the box, you guys stay here.”

Mark is gone for maybe a minute when the lights turn on. Donghyuck has to blink several times to get used to it, even though they’re yellow bulbs and they’re not that strong to the eyes. Renjun is back to normal, not clinging to Jeno anymore, even though Jeno is still hovering around him in worry. Mark returns with a triumphant grin and he and Jaemin have to do three separate trips each to carry everything into the cabin, what with all the food and medicine and clothes they’d brought. When they’re done, Mark upends his backpack and lays out the guns on the coffee table.

Donghyuck takes a look around the living room. The TV is still mounted on the wall across from the couch, but there are now two recliners on either side of the sofa and there is a new rug underneath the coffee table. There is a flower pot near the French doors leading out to the woods, neither of which had been there before – they look like new additions, even though the pot is empty. Under the TV, there’s a fireplace, which is old, but the decorations are new. On the opposite side of the doors, there is a counter that separates the living room from the kitchen, joined to the sink and cooking stoves. The kitchen isn’t state of the art, but the refrigerator is a little modern and there are different appliances spread across the counter – there’s a toaster, a mini-oven, a microwave and even a waffle maker.

“Guys, put your stuff here, too,” Mark requests. They all pile the guns and knives they’d gathered on the table, and Jaemin gives a low whistle as he says, “Did y’all break into Fort Knox or some shit?”

“Shut up,” Renjun mumbles. Jaemin blinks in surprise, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“Alright,” Mark says, “We have enough guns for each of us to carry two. I also made sure to grab all kinds of ammo boxes, just to be sure. We have knives – I’ll be honest, the only time I ever used a skinner was when my uncle thought me how to fish and that was almost a decade ago, but I think I can teach you. We can start tomorrow on that, yeah? Right now, we should just put all of this away and try to get some sleep.”

There’s a general murmur of consent and Mark starts packing away the weapons once more, careful with everything even if the guns aren’t loaded, but he keeps his dad’s shotgun at reach. Donghyuck takes the cold medicine and a bottle of water, hands them to Mark with a pointed stare, his eyebrow raised in reproach. Mark rolls his eyes and complies with a grimace as the pill goes down his throat.

Renjun finds the note.

“Hey, Mark,” he says, “Your uncle left something for you.”

Mark looks up to see Renjun holding a folded piece of paper. He approaches him with a worried frown, probably wondering why his uncle would need to leave him a note if they’d spoken earlier. Donghyuck feels torn between staying to hear what it says and going upstairs to pass out in one of the beds. He chooses to stay, but only because the frown on Mark’s face only deepens the more he reads that letter.

“What does it say?” Chenle asks. He’s on the couch, Jisung asleep with his head on his shoulder already, the younger boy’s snores so loud it’s a wonder he’s not waking up himself. Donghyuck hadn’t even noticed Jisung falling asleep in the first place.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take this,” Mark mutters, more to himself than to the others. “This is definitely a videogame. I’m living inside a Resident Evil scenario.”

“Mark, you’re not making any sense,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. His annoyance might stem from the fact that he’s scared out of his mind. “What does the letter say?”

“Uh,” Mark stammers. “It says that my uncle knew about the breach. He was apparently working with SYG – he was a freelance scientist, worked with whoever paid more. Somehow, he found out about the virus they were working with, about what it could do, and he took precautions. He says he came up with a cure, a vaccine or something, but he couldn’t make enough before they found out.”

“What happened to him?” Jeno asks. They’re all waiting with bated breath for Mark to say.

Mark shakes his head. “It doesn’t say. He wrote this letter a week ago, right around the time he called me. All he knew was that they’d found out about his sneaking around and that he didn’t have much time before they took him away. But he stashed his work here,” he continues, and that catches everyone by surprise, five heads whipping around to stare at him, “In the basement, in the freezer. There are ten vials hidden under the meat. He says he left needles in his room along with instructions on how to take a vein and inject them. That we should take the vaccine and store what’s left. And that it doesn’t work after twelve hours of the infection.”

“How long has it been since the gas station?”

Renjun’s whimper only brings silence to the room. Donghyuck does a quick count in his head and says, “Ten hours, approximately. We should get the vaccine now.”

“Yes please,” Renjun nods.

Jeno races downstairs with Mark to fetch the vials, while everyone else stays upstairs and paces around in worry. Renjun is the first to receive the injection, with Jaemin tying a belt around his forearm and Renjun hissing in pain when Mark misses his vein on the first try. The second time Mark has a steadier hand and manages to give him the cure without spilling anything. The contents of the vials are all bright blue, and they seem to be almost jelly-like in consistency.

Donghyuck hadn’t noticed before – or rather, he hadn’t thought much about it – but Renjun was infected. As the serum enters his system, the dark lines under his eyes disappear, his skin regains colour and the nervous movement in his limbs stop. A collective sigh rings around the room at the sight of him going back to normal.

“That’s probably going to leave a nasty bruise,” Mark says apologetically, motioning to the vein he’d obliterated. Renjun shrugs with his eyes teary again, and replies, “At least I’m not turning into a zombie.”

“Yeah,” Mark breathes. “Alright, who’s next?”

Jeno goes next, because he’d been in contact with the blood as well through Renjun, but nothing changes about his appearance, so he didn't catch the infection before, thank God. Mark goes around the living room, holding needles in his hands and trying his best not to spill the content of the vessels on the floor, and when it’s his turn, he asks Donghyuck to do it. “I don’t think I can do this on myself,” he chuckles dryly.

It takes only a couple of minutes for Donghyuck to get it done. By then, everyone is more than ready to sleep, so they make the trip upstairs with heavy feet, dragging their luggage up the steps. They put the food away while Mark vaccinated everyone, and Mark stays behind briefly to lock the door and secure the windows. “There are blankets on the linen closet, upstairs,” Mark says, distractedly.

There are two bedrooms on the upper floor. The main room has a queen-sized bed, big enough for three people to sleep in it, while the guest room has two twin-sized beds; Donghyuck is too tired to pay attention to the rest of the furniture. “How should we do this?”

There are no words spoken, but Jeno is kind of expected to be crashing with Renjun, and it’s not like Donghyuck or Jaemin can say anything about it without it being suspicious. Chenle and Jisung call dibs on one of the twin beds, claiming that sleeping with any of the others would be hell, to which Jaemin replies with, “Jisung snores like he’s the big bad wolf, Chenle, how the fuck do you expect to sleep like that?”

Chenle only shrugs in response and drags a sleepy Jisung to get blankets and then to bed. Renjun follows them, disappearing into the guest room, and Jeno gives his boyfriends an apologetic grin before he goes after him, and then the door shuts behind him.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Jaemin asks Donghyuck softly.

“Yeah.”

Jaemin, surprisingly, gives Donghyuck a secretive smile and says, “Don’t worry about it. We can talk in the morning, let’s go to sleep.”

Mark joins them a few minutes later, collapsing on the bed between the two and falling asleep before either of them can say anything. In silence, Jaemin and Donghyuck take off Mark’s shoes and his jeans, laying him out in a more comfortable position and then taking up the spots on either side of him. Mark _snores_ , just as bad as Jisung, but Donghyuck is used to that.

Donghyuck has a hard time going to sleep, however. Jaemin is breathing deeply within minutes, but Donghyuck’s mind is preoccupied with too many things – he has the whole Jeno and Renjun deal, not to mention the apocalypse going on. He hasn’t even heard from his family all day, and that’s something he’d been avoiding to think about so he wouldn’t go into panic attack mode, but now it’s just pouring into his mind.

His sister had been at a party today. His mother and father were at work, and his little brothers were in summer camp. Donghyuck feels a tear slip out in his worry; is his family okay? His sister was downtown and the infection spread there. Donghyuck doesn’t have much hope for her, or his parents for that matter, but at least his little brothers were out of the city and they should be safer there.

Donghyuck takes a glimpse at the bedside clock. It’s four am, which means he’s been lying there and thinking about every terrible scenario for almost two hours. Donghyuck sighs, turns to the side and decides that he should try to sleep. He counts Mark’s snores, his eyes trained on Jaemin’s tuft of hair on the other side of Mark’s body, and he finally falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case anyone was wondering, my laptop's internet connection hasn't been working so i haven't been online in over a week and im sorry!! but it shouldn't be too long before i'm back!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peeps i've read all your comments and appreciate them so much and i will try to reply as soon as i can

Jisung doesn’t realize he’s awake and staring at the ceiling until there’s shuffling from across the room. His eyes water – he probably wasn’t blinking – and Jisung returns to his senses in time to see Jeno sneaking out of the bedroom. One look to the other bed in the dormitory confirms Renjun is still sleeping, his recently dyed blond hair all Jisung can see amidst the blankets; the window above the bed allows the sunlight to stream inside and it creates a sort of golden haze around him. Jisung can’t help but think of Renjun as a prince.

The halls of the cabin are cold from the weather, but the floor is warm from the heater. Jisung wraps his arms around himself, cursing his luck for not bringing a sweater with him but forgoes the idea to return to the room in fear he’ll wake up the still resting boys, and braves the trip downstairs with bare feet and numb fingers. There are some details he didn’t notice last night: the walls are covered in an ugly flowery poster, some of the corners peeling; the doorframes are painted white; there is a small table on the edge of the hall, right across the stairs, with an empty flower vase on it.

Jisung comes to an interesting sight in the kitchen: Jeno wrapped around Jaemin and Donghyuck, the tallest of the three twisting to get away from the kisses Jeno is pressing down his neck. Jaemin is the first to notice Jisung’s presence, going stiff and the smile slipping from his face within seconds. Jisung raises an eyebrow in their direction, silently asking… he’s not sure what he’s asking.

Jeno yelps when he sees Jisung, Donghyuck the last to realize he’s there. All three bear the same guilty expressions – like a toddler caught with their hand in the cookie jar. It would be funnier if the entire situation wasn’t so incriminating.

“Are you cheating on Renjun?” Jisung aims the question at Jeno. The boy’s eyes widen considerably and he shakes his head adamantly, stuttering out that, “Renjun and I aren’t together, Jisung.”

Jisung’s other eyebrow goes up to join the first. “Are you sure about that?” he presses. Jaemin tries telling him to drop it, but Jisung ignores him. At Jeno’s affirmation, Jisung bypasses them to go to the fridge and mutters under his breath, “Could have fooled me.”

“That’s enough, Jisung,” Jaemin says firmly. Jisung grumbles some more but it’s too low for any of them to hear. Instead, Jisung sticks his head into the fridge and frowns. “Who the fuck brought Tantrum?” he exclaims.

“Mark wanted some,” Donghyuck says. “I got him some. It was hell to find, by the way.”

“It’s been out of the market for two years,” Jisung says pointedly. “Of course it wasn’t easy to come by.”

There’s silence in the kitchen. Jisung looks over his shoulder to see Donghyuck gaping at him in surprise. “You’re talking to me,” Donghyuck whispers.

“Yes, I’m talking to you,” Jisung rolls his eyes. “I can’t be mad forever. I can't say the same about Chenle, though. That kid can hold a grudge.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Donghyuck sighs. “I can tell.”

“Why is he mad at you?” Jaemin asks.

Donghyuck shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t let him go back into the minimarket to warn some of the people there.”

Jeno and Jaemin share a look. Donghyuck has his back to them, going through the drawers in search for one thing or another, so he doesn’t see it. “Hyuck, Chenle once didn’t speak to me for three days because I called his green hair a lettuce,” Jeno says meaningfully.

“If he stayed mad for two days over that, imagine how long he’ll give me the cold shoulder for,” Donghyuck slumps over the counter.

“Relax, Donghyuck,” Jisung says. “He’ll get over it in no time, really.”

“I’m gonna believe you because you’re his best friend and you two shared boogers in kindergarten.”

“Who the fuck told you that?” Jisung exclaims.

“Mark did. Seriously, don’t tell Mark anything, he’s going to tell me,” Donghyuck snorts. “Amateur.”

“Um, does he tell you _everything,_ everything?” Jaemin asks.

Donghyuck’s previously haughty look dissipates to something different. “Well, not _everything._ If you’ve told him any secrets, he hasn’t told me. He just tells me the stupid shit, like the romantic booger dinners.”

“Ugh,” Jisung groans. “Enough talk about my childhood mistakes, please. What’s for breakfast?”

“Despair and suffering.”

Jisung turns around to see Renjun join them in the kitchen, his hair a rat’s nest and deep bags under his eyes. “You look like shit,” Jisung informs him.

“Thanks, I got it on discount from Gucci,” Renjun grumbles. He makes a beeline for the coffee pot, although Jeno already has a cup prepared for him. Renjun takes it gratefully and says, dead serious, “I love you.” Jisung watches the red that sprinkles across Jeno’s cheeks and think about how _interesting_ that is. And clearly, he isn’t the same: Jaemin watches the interaction with narrowed eyes, but at least Donghyuck appears oblivious.

“I’m thinking pancakes,” Donghyuck says under his breath. He’s staring at the contents of the fridge and tapping his chin, a furrow of his brows to indicate his concentration. “But that seems a little festive given the circumstances.”

“Fuck it,” Renjun tells him around his coffee mug. “I could have died last night and dragged you all with me. We deserve some pancakes.”

Before an uncomfortable silence could spread around the room, Donghyuck hums his agreement and starts pulling out the ingredients from the refrigerator, placing the eggs carefully against the wall on the counter and rummaging around for the carton of milk he saw Chenle put in there last night. They’d all brought groceries from home to make sure they had enough for everyone – perhaps Mark’s nagging had its perks, after all.

Jisung had his second of doubt, thinking it wasn’t prudent to use so much of their stash in just one meal, but then he thought that they don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, and yes, fuck it. They deserve some pancakes.

He’s put in batter duty, along with Jeno. They’re not the best cooks, but they’re better than Renjun, who is told to sit on a tall stool and look pretty. Renjun initially scowled, but a second cup of coffee was pressed to his hands by Jeno and he was soothed just like that. Besides, Donghyuck stays near him and lets him steal fruits from the chopping board.

Jaemin’s chore is to actually make the pancakes, and in the minutes he has before the batter is ready, he goes to wake up the rest of their party. Mark stumbles into the kitchen with his eyes still closed, lured in by the smell of coffee and the sound of his friends laughing around, but Chenle has to be led by the hand by Jaemin, not even half-conscious as he takes a seat next to Renjun and continues to snore within seconds.

“Hey,” Donghyuck taps Chenle’s head with his clean hand, “Your hair is getting in the way,”

Chenle makes a noncommittal groan and moves away a little, just enough to avoid shedding all over the fruit. Renjun declines the next cube of strawberry and instead directs it to Chenle’s mouth, as a sort of wake up call. Chenle chases the treat with a whine when Renjun pulls it away at the last second; laughing at the glare he receives in return. “You’re mean,” Chenle mumbles.

“My uncle,” Mark says sleepily, “Has a small shooting range outside. I found silencers in his room so we can use those.”

“Why?” Jeno asks. He’s washing his hands at the sink, up to the elbows in pancake batter; Jisung isn’t too far better off, somehow with chunks in his hair that are being picked out by Jaemin while the pan heats up.

Mark shrugs. He’s slowly waking up, though the coffee mug Donghyuck gave him most likely has something to do with it. “We probably shouldn’t attract much attention to ourselves. There isn’t a lot around the property but you can never be too careful.”

It only takes that sentence to remind them of where they are. A black cloud permeates the room, disrupted after a few minutes by the sizzling of the pan, followed by Jaemin’s attempt to cheer his friends up. He flips the pancakes, purposefully failing the tricks he’s known for years, and at last they start giggling. Jaemin’s smile grows wide and unabashed.

The following week is a blur to Jisung. They discover a working radio in one of the cabinets in the living room, but the news they catch are disheartening: the infection has spread, going past their country’s border and entering neighbouring territories and going as far as across the ocean, and hope is dwindling as more and more people are infected and no cure can be found. There was a long, drawn-out discussion that lasted for hours about the topic: with a cure in their hands – three vials of it, in fact – and the possibility of traveling back to the city, Jaemin, Jeno and Mark wanted to help, to hand over the serums in their possession to someone who could do something with it. But Donghyuck and Renjun were against the idea, for multiple reasons, such as the dangers of going into the city, the uncertainty of their situation and the possibility of being captured – “This has evolved into a war, Mark!” – And they won over the votes of Chenle and Jisung. To be perfectly honest, Jisung voted against simply because the idea of losing his friends was too frightening to even think about.

The fight blew over that same night, after finding Mr. Lee’s stash in the basement. There’s a shelf full of seeds to plant in the tiny backyard, bags of fertilized dirt, gardening tools and water. Jisung has learned to count his blessings, and he’s thankful Mark’s uncle had the foresight to leave them some things they would have had trouble coming by otherwise. There are also bottles of booze, which they put away with the alcohol they had brought themselves, but Jisung knows it won’t be long before they crack into those as well.

Chenle and Jaemin are put in charge of the garden. They spend almost a whole day planning the ordeal, Jaemin drawing on his sketchpad the location for each seed, following the instructions on a gardening guide they found in the bookshelves, Chenle reading aloud the different sections and pointing out the drawings to Jaemin for guidance on how big or tall some of the plants will be. Jisung helps, carrying bags of dirt and shovelling around to make room for all the seeds, but his true task is to go with Mark in three days on a hunting trip.

Renjun and Donghyuck opted out of the trip. Donghyuck because he might eat meat, but he doesn’t want to be part of the process that brings said meat to his table, Renjun because he’s having trouble using the shotguns. Renjun has been the best at swinging the machete and the axes in the shed, what with his recent ventures into a gym and the newly-acquired upper body strength (with Mark, Jeno and Jaemin a close second because they don’t have the repressed anger he does) but every time he tries to fire one of the shotguns or rifles, the kickback never fails to make itself known. So in addition to a bruise on his arm from the needle and the broken vein, he also has his right shoulder bruised purple and blue.

Jisung watches him hack away at log after log of wood, leaning on the handles of the carrier in boredom and a little soreness. Renjun is mad today, for whatever reason, and he’s chopped down three trees in the space of two hours, not a hint of him stopping anytime soon. Jisung had gone out with Mark to the shooting range this morning, as early as sunrise, and Mark hadn’t let him go until he could hit all targets in a row.

“We need to be prepared, Sunggie,” Mark had ruffled his hair. The use of the nickname was a low blow, in Jisung’s opinion, because he felt obligated to keep going until he got it all right. It took him three hours to do so and now his arms and shoulders are screaming at him in protest.

“Renjun,” Jisung says, after another fifteen minutes of Renjun huffing and puffing and stabbing at trees. “Come on, we have enough wood for two weeks of campfires, maybe even more. Why don’t we go back inside? We could both use a shower.”

Renjun doesn’t seem to have heard him. Jisung waits for him to be over with the chunk of tree he has in front of him and asks again, “Let’s call it a day, okay? Let’s go.”

Jisung holds eye contact with Renjun for a full minute. Then, Renjun scoffs, says, “That’s hyung to you, Jisung,” but he buries the axe in the tree and pulls his shirt back on, a silent agreement. “Fine. Let me just put these on the carrier.”

Jeno makes a low whistling sound when the two traipse into the house, covered in sweat and dirt. “Where were you, running a marathon across the Appalachian Mountains? You look like shit,” he informs them.

“This group needs better ways of greeting,” Renjun mumbles. “I’m going to take a shower,” he says louder, disappearing upstairs.

There’s only one working shower in the cabin, so Jisung sits on a kitchen stool to wait patiently. Jeno stays with Jisung, offers him some tea that he’s brewing for Jaemin’s headache, but Jisung declines. “Jisung, you might wanna have some,” Jeno insists gently. “You’ve been out in the sun all day, don’t you have a headache?”

Jeno’s right. Jisung can feel a throb behind his left eyebrow, it comes and goes, but it’s annoying and Jisung wants nothing more than to take a shower and go to bed until dinner time. But he knows he’ll most likely not get what he wants, because he’d already been asked by Jaemin to help tonight with the cooking and Jisung had said yes.

“You’re not supposed to be smart,” Jisung grumbles. He accepts the teacup and takes a careful sip, nodding his approval at the combination of teabags. Jeno’s grandmother ran a tea shop when they were younger and Jisung knows that the older boy grew up listening to her rave about natural herbs versus bagged tea, so it must have been difficult for him to prepare today’s tea with baggies. “You can only either be good at sports or be smart. Pick one.”

“Says who?” Jeno giggles.

“The varsity basketball player sitting in front of you that’s failing three classes this semester,” Jisung says.

Jeno blinks. “Jisung, how the fuck are you failing three classes?” he asks.

Jisung shrugs, a little uncomfortable to be sharing this even though he was the one to bring it up. Truth be told, he’s only ever talked about this with Chenle, because they are in the same major and share most classes save for one, but he hadn’t told anyone else. Jeno gives him a strange look, that _look_ Jisung hates because it makes him feel like he can see right through him, and Jisung diverts his gaze and stares at the wall instead. His ears feel hot.

“You could have told me,” Jeno continues nonetheless. Jisung hates that he sounds wounded. “I could have helped.”

“I felt dumb,” Jisung murmurs. “I didn’t want to bother you with my problems.”

“When we were kids,” Jeno says exasperatedly, “We all said one for all and all for one. Yes, we were imitating the musketeers, but that doesn’t matter.”

Jisung blushes profusely. He remembers that day vividly: the seven of them had been at Renjun’s house for the weekend, one of the hottest summers they’d lived, and after watching Disney’s The Three Musketeers they’d made cut-out swords and scavenged all the closets in search for hats to wear, and then they had made that oath, in the middle of the backyard, the swords raised to the skies and shouting gleefully.

Something settles in Jisung’s chest at the memory. It feels like grief, but for what, he doesn’t know. “Shut up,” he grumbles. “I don’t need you getting all sappy with me.”

Jeno offers him a lopsided grin and says, “Fine, but next time, you can come to me, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung waves him off. “The shower was turned off, I’m gonna hop in now. Thanks for the tea,” he adds, drinking the last sips and washing the cup quickly before running upstairs. As he passes their shared bedroom, he sees Renjun going through his medicine, swallowing something dry and putting away the container. Jisung remembers Renjun referring to his medication as a cocktail of drugs once, which seemed accurate at the time. Ever since Renjun was thirteen, he’s been in and out of therapy, never off his meds, no matter what state he’s in.

“How are you feeling?” Jisung asks.

Renjun turns around to look at him where he’s lingering at the door. “I’m balls deep in a panic attack,” Renjun says flatly.

Jisung gives him a frightened look. “What?”

“I’m not serious,” he says. Then he adds, “Too serious, anyway. I’m fine, Jisung. Go take a shower, you stink.”

Jisung knows better than to stick around when Renjun is in one of his moods, so he turns on his heels and goes to the bathroom. But he can’t shake away the image of Renjun standing in the middle of their room, one of his pill bottles in hand, the vacant look in his eyes as he stared ahead, maybe out the window, maybe not. He’s never been more worried about his friend before than he is now.

The hunting trip happens three days later. Mark packs their bags for them as he is the one who knows what they’ll need for the two days journey, while Jisung, Jaemin and Jeno watch him in interest. Chenle is in their little garden with Renjun, picking the strawberries that seem ready for consumption.

They still have plenty of meat in the freezer downstairs, as well as grains, bread and fruits in the fridge and counter, but Mark seemed on edge the entire week, too nervous to be placated by the knowledge. Today, however, he seems worse and better at the same time: his hands are shaking uncontrollably, yet his eyes are calmer than they’ve been in days. His body does not seem to have caught up with his mind. Jisung had the urge, minutes ago; to grab Mark’s hands and make him sit down, take a breath, clear his mind, but he didn’t have the guts to do it.

“This should be enough,” Mark says, after almost half an hour of fluttering around the cabin like a mad man. He’s referring to the duffel bags in front of him; full of ready-made meals, water bottles and a first aid kit, but also to the shotguns on the counter and the ammunition laying by its side, the sleeping bags on the ground. “Yeah, it’s good. We’re good.”

Renjun and Donghyuck wave them goodbye from the porch. Jisung notices the tense lines on Donghyuck’s shoulders, the sharp edges of Renjun’s mouth and hopes, faintly, that they don’t destroy the house while they’re gone. That would certainly be bad for them. Jeno has the same worried frowns as he says goodbye to them that he’s had multiple times this week, but they’re conscious enough to walk away at the appropriate time. Mark says something to Donghyuck that Jisung can’t hear and it makes Donghyuck grimace, but Jisung doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Whatever is going on with them, they have to solve it on their own. Jisung isn’t about to get in the middle of their drama.

They take Jaemin’s car. It’s the biggest one they have and probably the safest as well, given they can all sit inside unlike with Renjun’s truck or Mark’s convertible. But Mark is the one who drives, since he knows the trails better than Jaemin does. Chenle is jittery on the backseat where he’s squashed between Jisung and Jaemin, holding his mother’s Cross in his hands, one he typically wears around his neck. On the front seat, Jeno stares resolutely out the window, his face making him the poster boy for teenage drama. At least Jisung can count on his friends to keep some semblance of normalcy in his life. Mark doesn’t seem too worried, although he isn’t exactly calm, either: his eyes are concentrated on the road, his fingers tapping something on the wheel. Every once in a while, he’ll meet eyes with Jisung through the rear-view mirror and Mark will offer him a reassuring smile – but it never reaches his eyes.

The hunting grounds are two hours away from the cabin. Jisung gets out of the car as soon as he can, grateful that at last he can stretch his limbs, and looks around. Jisung couldn’t see much from inside the van and all he could really rely on to tell him where they were was the bumpy road, the numerous ups and downs that jostled him from one side to another and the slivers of sunlight that sneaked through the trees and pierced the car.

There’s a stream cutting across the path they’re on, small fishes visible in the clear water. On the sides grow wildflowers, of which Jisung only recognizes dandelions and – perhaps unexpectedly – lilies. For the most part, they’re standing in the middle of a nondescript forest; there are multiple trees around them, all of them tall enough to block the sun from their sight, some with fruits and others with flowers. The ground is littered in fallen fruits, most of them rotten already, but Jisung spies a ripe mango lying near his feet and he picks it up, dusts it off with his shirt and starts peeling it with his bare hands. Chenle sees him and does the same with another mango he finds a little ways to the right.

Mark leads them to a small clearing. It reminds Jisung of his parent’s backyard – there was enough space for their tent, but the wilderness was the definite champion. Jisung does his best not to step on any twigs as practice for when they’re hunting, but the effort slows him down and he has to choose between stealth and keeping up with his friends. It feels foreshadowing. But there’s no danger now and Jisung decides he doesn’t care about a couple of broken sticks if it means he won’t get lost in a strange area.

“We can set up camp here,” Jeno suggests. “Those trees can provide shade and it isn’t far from the car.”

“You’re right,” Mark nods. He sounds just the tiniest bit surprised, in a good way. “Who’s gonna help with the tents?”

Jaemin raises his hand and the two set out to prepare their camp with minimal chatter. Chenle and Jeno go off to scan the grounds but Jisung stays to watch the older boys prepare their camp with the excuse of lending a hand in case they need it, but he really just wants to do some people watching. Jaemin seems different, now that Jisung really pays attention: there’s a new air around him, as if he’s grown in the last week. Jisung supposes they all have, in a way, but Jaemin seems the most changed. There’s harshness in his face that wasn’t there before, seriousness in the lines of his shoulders that shouldn’t be there at his age. None of those are as present in the rest of them, except for Mark, maybe. One could say Mark has it worst, since he has been holding himself responsible for everything concerning them, but Mark is still… Mark. He’ still got his goofy laugh at the most random situations, his drive to help everyone with anything they need and the leadership that’s gotten them through the past week. Jaemin, on the other hand, has been almost withdrawn since they arrived at the cabin, barely talking to anyone outside of Jeno and Donghyuck. Jisung noticed he’s been avoiding Renjun, and Renjun noticed too.

The temperature in the air seemed to drop ten degrees whenever they were in the same room. Whatever was going on, was affecting them more than they let on. Jisung recalls the other night with some trepidation in his stomach: how Jeno and Renjun had been sitting out on the porch, just five minutes after Chenle left them alone having gone to bed, and Jaemin had said _something_ to them that made Renjun almost pummel him. Jisung doesn’t think they knew he was there – he’d been sitting inside the cabin, reading the labels on some of the canned meals they had in the kitchen – but he thinks they wouldn’t have made such a scene if they did know. Jeno clearly tried to ease the tension, but Jaemin had stormed back inside with a dark expression and Renjun had been on edge the following day. Jisung wondered if his pills had magically stopped working. Ever since that night, Jaemin and Renjun avoided each other like the plague.

“Hey, Jisung,” Jaemin called him over. Jisung was almost surprised to hear him sound so normal. “Can you come over here? I need another hand.”

Jisung finds he’s glad to have something to do. People watching was only fun when he didn’t know them and he couldn’t be affected by what he saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of things: 
> 
> -. can anyone guess what renjun's illness is? i think i make it pretty obvious without having to explicitly state it but i still have my doubts. i also realize that he's very different to how he acted in the previous chapters but that's just part of what he has (i don't have this disorder but i know several people who do and i'm actually basing renjun on one particular person, so it might seem a little unrealistic to you, but this is just my experience.) i promise sweet renjun will be back soon, this renjun is simply the product of his mind and the circumstances... if that makes any sense, which i hope it does  
> -. i know this was probably angstier than you expected but it's honestly a filler chapter since nothing too interesting happens and it's actually full of hints for what's going to happen next!  
> -. i know i said there would be comedy but i lied. i apparently can't stray from the cliche zombie apocalypse trope full of angst and edge. sorry  
> -. if you think things are bad between norenhyuckmin, you aren't prepared for what's coming next lmao


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning: this chapter aka jaemin is one hell of a roller-coaster, for plot purposes. i actually had something entirely different written a week ago but i thought "nah too easy" so i changed it then changed it again and now we're here so uh yay
> 
> the entire 00z debacle was supposed to be only half the chapter and it ended up being the whole thing lmao worry not though the zombies will make a comeback next chapter 
> 
> don't be too upset about what happens here i promise everything will work out!! and don't hate renjun too much he's just a baby

Donghyuck was never known for his subtlety. He’s rash, straightforward, doesn’t eat his thoughts. Jaemin always thought it was endearing, but not now.

The problem starts when they return from the hunting trip. Jaemin had felt some worry as they approached the cabin, wondering what they’d find after having left them alone for three days, but he certainly wasn’t expecting them to be so close now. 

Upon stepping foot inside the cabin, Jaemin felt like his entire world went off-kilter. Donghyuck and Renjun were just sitting around, laughing together, looking like the best of friends. It should have made Jaemin happy. It should have been a relief to see they didn’t destroy the cabin. It should have made Jaemin proud of his boyfriend, to see him get over his jealousy and embrace Renjun once more. But all it did was leave a bitter taste in Jaemin’s mouth and hot coal in his stomach. 

Jaemin is probably the worst person in the planet, he’s aware. He shouldn’t want for his boyfriend to hate – or strongly dislike him or whatever – Renjun, but Jaemin can’t help it. He already felt like Renjun was taking Jeno from him, in spite of how much he hated to think that way, and now Donghyuck? Jaemin kinda feels played. And it sucks. But he never expected Donghyuck to do what he does that night.

The hunting trip went a lot better than they’d imagined. They returned triumphant with an ox strapped to the roof of Jaemin’s car and almost a dozen of smaller animals in the trunk, even a small deer they found three miles from their camp. Jaemin was a little proud of himself for shooting it himself. To celebrate their success, they’d cracked into the alcohol they kept stored in the basement.

Mark was a lightweight, and it only took a couple of shots to get him wasted. He passed out after an hour, curled up on the couch and snoring into his fist. Jisung and Chenle had better tolerance, Chenle’s higher than Jisung’s, and they lasted double than Mark, but they also went to sleep and left the four alone, logging Mark with them. Jaemin felt awkward, not having talked to Renjun after their fight the other night, and he’s not sure Renjun has forgiven him or not. Jaemin certainly regretted saying what he said, but he hadn’t apologized, yet.

Donghyuck stretches out on the now-empty couch, dragging Jeno down with him. Jaemin stays put on the recliner, watching as Renjun trips tipsily from the kitchen towards the living room and lands halfway on him, his cheeks red from the alcohol. “Sorry,” Renjun giggles, trying to get off him and failing. Jaemin gives him a less than gentle push and Renjun settles for lying down on the rug. Jaemin pretends not to see the disapproving stare Donghyuck is giving him.

“You know,” Donghyuck says conversationally. Jaemin feels his stomach drop down to his shoes. “Monogamy is a social construct.”

At Jeno’s confused sound, Donghyuck continues, “Renjun, did you know Jeno is dating me and Jaemin?”

A hushed silence falls over the living room. Jeno looks torn between running away and staying put, and Jaemin can’t say he blames him. Jaemin feels a little like throwing up, if he’s honest. And Renjun’s face is blank, blinking up at Donghyuck.

“But he likes you,” Donghyuck hums, uncaring about the nuke he just dropped, “Jeno, I mean. Jeno likes you, Renjun. He gets the stupidest look on his face when he’s with you or even just thinking about you. And I can tell you like him, as well.”

“What are you doing?” Jeno hisses. Jaemin doesn’t think he’s seen him so red before, and he can’t tell if it’s out of anger or embarrassment or both. It could also be the alcohol, but Jaemin doubts it.

“And,” Donghyuck powers through, “I wouldn’t mind sharing him with you. That’s probably me being drunk as fuck right now, but I have given it a lot of thought. And I’m pretty sure Jaemin is alright with it, too.”

“No, I’m not,” Jaemin cuts in, his voice icy. Jaemin’s hands are jittery from barely-supressed anger, but he’s not sure if it’s towards Donghyuck, Renjun or both. “Donghyuck, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Donghyuck, for the first time tonight, seems at a loss for words. “I thought,” he splutters, his eyes darting from Jaemin’s face to Jeno’s and Renjun’s, “You seemed so calm about everything. The first night here… you didn’t bat an eye when I told you I was worried about them.”

“That’s because I was convinced Jeno didn’t like him back!” Jaemin exclaims. A part of him feels bad to be discussing this in front of Renjun, but a bigger part is saying _fuck it._ “Donghyuck, why would I be so calm if I thought our boyfriend was into someone else?”

“Because you’re fine with him being with me?” Donghyuck challenges.

“You know I’m still right here, right?” Jeno remarks. His speech isn’t even slurred anymore, which is enough to know he sobered up pretty quickly. “And Renjun is, too. So, how about you two stop discussing our relationship as if we weren’t?”

“Your relationship?” Jaemin can’t even raise his voice. He didn’t mean to sound so fucking pathetic, but he feels as if he’s been punched in the gut. “You mean you two are together?”

Jeno shrugs uncomfortably. “We didn’t quite get that far just yet. I was planning on talking to you about it first, before Donghyuck decided to do it himself.”

“Oh, my God,” Donghyuck whispers. His head swivels to where Renjun is still on the rug, sitting with his legs crossed and picking at the loose strands. “Renjun?”

Renjun doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes when he speaks. “I already knew about you. Jeno told me within two days of becoming official. And we aren’t,” Jaemin watches him struggle to get the words out, his face scrunched up, “dating. I guess we just like to fool around sometimes.”

“But,” Jeno splutters, clearly not understanding. “Renjun, I thought… I mean, you said -”

“I know what I said,” Renjun snaps, and Jaemin can tell he’s getting mad. “I didn’t mean it. It was in the heat of the moment.”

Something inside Jaemin breaks. _In the heat of the moment?_ Does that mean what he thinks it means?

“You two slept together?” Jaemin can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“No!” Jeno denies vehemently. “We’ve never done that, no. It’s not what it sounds like.”

“Then what is it?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, staring right at Jeno. “Please, enlighten us.”

“Stop it,” Jeno says to Renjun. Jaemin’s heart stutters at his teary eyes, but he’s too busy trying not to fall apart at the moment. “You know what it is.”

“No, I actually don’t,” Renjun says. “Until just now, I figured you and I were just a side thing. Something to keep you entertained when your boyfriends were busy.”

Donghyuck nearly leaps out of the couch when he dives for Renjun, his hands outstretched as if he’s preparing himself to strangle or to punch him. Jeno catches him at the last second, though, stopping him from doing something he might regret. “Don’t talk about Jeno like that,” he hisses at Renjun. It’s such a flip from earlier, when Donghyuck seemed so ready to accept Renjun into their relationship. Jaemin feels vindicated, despite himself. 

“Why do you care so much?” Renjun barks at Donghyuck. “He’s the one who never told you about me.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jaemin asks quietly. 

“I didn’t know how to say it,” Jeno admits softly, his eyes angled down to his feet. “It was hard enough coming to terms with liking you two and I wasn’t sure if you would even be okay with my feelings for Renjun.”

Renjun’s entire face convulses for a second, then it goes back to its previous expression – shut down, vaguely flustered, but cold in the end. “I’m going to bed,” he announces suddenly. “I’m crashing with Mark; you three can take the other bed.”

“Renjun, wait,” Jeno struggles to go after him, but the look Renjun sends him stops him in his tracks. Even Jaemin feels it in his bones. “Injun?”

“Don’t,” Renjun says calmly. “Stay with them. They’re your boyfriends, after all. I’m not. Or, what? Did you think I was looking for something else?”

And with those parting words, he disappears upstairs. Jaemin wants to feel something other than jealousy, other than this ire and the distinct sensation that he’s about to lose his entire heart, but he can’t. He doesn’t even stop the words flowing out of his mouth at the sight of the tear tracks on Jeno’s face. “Jeno, what the fuck were you thinking? Did you actually cheat on us?”

“That’s not,” Jeno fumbles; his voice is thick with tears and heartache, “true. I never slept with Renjun. We barely ever did anything other than kiss, and it wasn’t even that often. And I wanted to tell you about it,” he hiccups, “because you two mean the world to me and I felt like shit hiding this from you, but I didn’t want to rush Renjun into anything and,” he stops. 

“And what?” Donghyuck asks. 

“I love him,” Jeno confesses. 

All the fight leaves Jaemin’s body. One second ago, he was ready to yell and fight and throw things around, feeling betrayed. But now he just wants to sleep. 

“But I also love you,” Jeno continues. “I was aware that neither of you likes him that way, I was just trying to buy some time, find the right moment to say it.”

“To say that you were breaking up with us?” Jaemin fishes.

Jeno looks completely surprised at the suggestion, as if it never crossed his mind. Knowing him, it probably didn’t. “No! Jaemin, I don’t want to break you with you. I didn’t know how to say that I wanted to date him too. The way that I date you two.”

Jeno falls back on the couch, his body deflating. Jaemin debates with himself for a second, then crawls out of the recliner and sits with Jeno, takes his hand and squeezes in silent support. He’s always been good with his emotions: before they dated, Jaemin used to shower Jeno and Donghyuck in love as if they were, as he does with the rest of their friends. Jaemin never had a problem with hugging them, kissing their cheeks, holding their hands. Hell, he’s done it countless of times with Renjun, as well, whenever the boy isn’t in a bad place and doesn’t recoil from the touch. Jaemin is good at banter, good at fighting, at flirting and at support, always knows what to say when his friends need him. However, despite that, Jaemin doesn’t know how to apologize. You could say it’s his fatal flaw. Words always fail him when he needs them the most.

Jeno gets him, though. He always has. Jeno squeezes back, a thankful sigh leaving his lips. Jaemin sees he’s still crying, can see and feel Jeno’s heart breaking as if it were his own, and he hates that there’s really nothing he can do to make him feel better. Nothing other than sit here and hold his hand in silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Jeno,” Donghyuck sniffs, and Jaemin suddenly remembers that he’s in the living room with them. “I shouldn’t have done that. I thought I was doing you a favour, that I would just be helping you two along…”

“It’s not your fault, Hyuck,” Jeno shakes his head. “I mean, you really shouldn’t have tried to meddle, but it’s not your fault that Renjun doesn’t – like me.”

_That Renjun doesn’t love me._

Jaemin and Donghyuck both hear it, clear as day, but they don’t mention it. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Jaemin says softly. He’s tired, the alcohol worn off a long time ago and he only wants to crawl under a comforter and sleep, but he needs to say this before it eats away at his heart. “I could have been nicer about everything. I know I’ve been terrible to Renjun this week. I was jealous and I was scared and I was a complete ass about this,” he chuckles dryly, “and I definitely should have handled my emotions better. I know what it’s like to have more than one person in your heart, and I know it isn’t easy to deal with,” he says to Jeno, carefully picking his words. He really, _really_ needs Jeno to know that he’s not mad anymore. “Jeno, if you love Renjun, then you have my full support. And if he doesn’t want you, then that’s his loss.”

“How could he not want him?” Donghyuck coos, attempting to lift the mood. “Look at him, Jeno is adorable!”

“Thank you,” Jeno musters a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I learned my lesson, though.”

Jaemin wants to protest that there’s no lesson to learn, that love isn’t something taught in a classroom and say that Jeno needs to get rid of that awful expression before Jaemin punches him, but he doesn’t do any of it. He just takes Donghyuck’s hand in his free one and quietly promises them that he’ll be the best himself he can be. For them.

“Wait,” Jaemin frowns, suddenly thinking of something. “Jeno, I thought you never told Renjun about us?”

“I lied?” Jeno tries. “I didn’t want Hyuck to be self-conscious so I told Renjun that it was a secret.”

“That worked out great, didn’t it?” Donghyuck mumbles.

~

If Jaemin thought for even a second that the next morning everything would be fixed, he was dead wrong. It was bad enough that the three slept cramped together on a bed meant for two people _at most_ while listening to Chenle and Jisung compete over who could snore the loudest, and there was a draft coming in through the window that kept Jaemin awake well past sunrise. 

Mark lets them sleep until noon, thinking they’re just hangover. Jaemin shakes off the questioning glances he gives them when he comes to wake them up, aware that Mark thinks Donghyuck is with Jeno and no one else, and Jaemin has been through enough last night, he’s not about to go outing himself to their oldest friend right now. Even if he knows Mark will, worst case scenario, stutter through a bro hug and a well meant but ultimately awkward speech about acceptance. 

In the kitchen, Chenle and Jisung are cooking lunch, Renjun sat on top of the counter and laughing at whatever Chenle is saying to him. He looks so different from last night; there isn’t a single trace of the boy that had stood there and told Jeno he was alone in his feelings, the boy that had stomped on his own best friend’s heart and left. A surge of anger lights through Jaemin’s short fuse, but he forces himself to breathe in and let it go. If not for his sake or Renjun’s, then for Jeno’s. 

Jaemin brushes past him and goes straight for the coffee. He needs it _bad_ and even more so if he’s going to stay quiet and not blow up on Renjun like he wants to. He’s not even angry about Renjun and Jeno anymore, even if he probably should be – if he thinks about it from an outsider’s point of view, Jeno technically cheated, and that’s something that certainly warrants his anger. But he can’t, not when he can see how much it’s hurting Jeno, someone who’s always been so kind and sweet and affectionate to them. Jaemin can’t possibly blame him for falling for Renjun, either; he knows Renjun, knows who he is underneath the snark and the mood swings. Mood swings that aren’t even his fault and that he tries his best to control. Renjun works so hard in therapy, sticks to his medications and is so good about being the best he can be. Jaemin is mad at Renjun for breaking Jeno’s heart, but he can’t help but think it wasn’t really Renjun who was talking last night.

“God,” Jaemin mutters, “I need help.”

“There’s some aspiring on the cabinets,” Mark offers sweetly. Jaemin wants to tell him that he’s too good for this world, but he’d rather keep that thought to himself. “Here,” Mark hands him a little white pill. Jaemin takes it gratefully and knocks it back, dry. Mark’s smile contorts into a grimace at the sight and it’s Jaemin’s turn to smile at him, albeit a bit sheepishly.

“Rough night?” Mark inquires. He’s so fucking nice, Jaemin wants to cry. He even considers telling him, not all the details of course; just enough to get his insight. But then Renjun snorts and Jaemin is reminded of the reason behind his inner turmoil. 

“You could say that,” Renjun mumbles. A tense silence threatens to suffocate them, only becoming worse when Jeno and Donghyuck finally arrive to the kitchen. Donghyuck’s hair is wet from the shower and so is Jeno’s, and Jaemin thinks they couldn’t possibly get any more obvious. Their pinkies are linked together and there are barely covered hickeys peeking over the collars of their shirts. Jaemin has to suppress an eye roll that would only make his headache worse. “Jesus have mercy,” Renjun does roll his eyes at them.

Jeno drops Donghyuck’s hand as if it burnt him. Donghyuck only seems hurt for a second before the tension in the room registers in his head and he looks from one side of the kitchen to the other, eventually making his way to Jaemin and sitting with him. Jeno, on the other hand, remains at the entryway, his eyes resembling a baby deer as he stares at Renjun. Renjun doesn’t look at him.

“I thought you said you and Renjun weren’t a thing,” Jisung narrows his eyes. Jaemin has always admired Jisung’s fierce protectiveness over his friends, but he really wishes the kid would just shut his mouth right now. Chenle, next to him, looks lost as fuck.

“We’re not,” Renjun responds, emotionlessly. Jeno sucks in a breath, even if it isn’t anything he hasn’t heard before. “Right, Jeno?”

Jeno gulps. Jaemin wants to punch Renjun in the face. “Right,” Jeno says. 

Jaemin thinks Renjun’s shoulders slump at the confirmation, but Renjun turns his attention to Chenle and everyone goes about their business as if nothing happened.

~

“Something isn’t right with Renjun,” Donghyuck announces.

He’d dragged Jaemin and Jeno to the basement under the pretence of categorizing their supplies, an excuse that absolutely no one bought. Mark had merely given them an amused look before he went back to teaching Chenle how to peel the skin off their game, Jisung grimacing in disgust a few feet away. Renjun has been locked up in the guest room with a headache ever since lunch. Right now, Jeno is dusting off the couch on the corner of the basement so they can sit on it. Jaemin takes a seat on a chair nearby in the meantime.

“What do you mean?” Jaemin asks.

“He’s acting weird,” Donghyuck bites his lip, his hands restlessly tapping on the freezer.

Jeno makes a strange sound at the back of his throat. “He probably hates me,” he deprecates.

“That’s not it,” Donghyuck insists. Jaemin forces him to sit down on the couch when Jeno is done cleaning it, though Donghyuck doesn’t look like he’s even aware of what he’s doing. “While you were away, he and I were here together and he was so different than he is right now. Jeno, we talked about you and I swear he got this lovesick smile whenever you were brought up. That’s why I was so sure last night…” he trails off. “But now it’s like he’s someone else. And even before that, I could see it in his eyes, how fucking whipped he is for you. Renjun is always so comfortable around you; he’s always so sweet to you. This makes no sense.”

“Hyuck, please,” Jeno whispers, his voice cracking. “He doesn’t love me back. That’s fine.”

“It’s not!” Donghyuck’s eyes nearly bulge out of his face. “Because I know he loves you. I could tell, I can still tell. I can’t deny that he’s hurting but I thought about this all night. Renjun is doing this on purpose but not to hurt you.”

“Then, why?” Jaemin asks. 

“I think he’s trying to avoid getting hurt,” Donghyuck says quietly. He looks at Jeno, offering him a tentative grin. “He might not think you were serious about him. Or maybe he just thinks you’d choose us over him. I don’t know why he’s doing this, I can only speculate, but I don’t think he’s being for real with this whole act.”

“I agree.” Jaemin locks eyes with Jeno. “When we first got here… that morning, you gave Renjun his coffee and he said he loved you. I noticed the way you reacted, how flustered you were and I guess Renjun’s own reaction flew over my head because I was so jealous.”

“But?” Jeno, despite himself, leans forward with interest.

“But, now that I think about it, he seemed to be asking for the ground to swallow him. I think he meant it when he said he loved you and then panicked.”

Jeno’s entire face changes then. Previously, there had been a dark cloud hanging over him, but the reassurance from them did wonders and the frown disappears, replaced by a small, beautiful smile. Jaemin didn’t think getting Jeno another boyfriend would make him so giddy.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “Um, there’s something else,” he says sheepishly. “It’s also about Renjun, and it may or may not have something to do with this.”

Jaemin and Jeno hum to show they’re listening. Donghyuck twists his mouth, pondering whether to say it or not, but then he makes up his mind. “I don’t think Renjun is taking his medicine. Like I said, he’s not acting like himself. He’s being mean and bitchy and an ass and that only happens when he’s off his pills.”

“Should we talk to him?” Jeno asks. He’s never felt so lost, Jaemin can see it. Jeno is usually there for Renjun, sometimes even goes with him to therapy when Renjun asks him to, sitting calmly in the waiting room until Renjun is out. 

“You remember the last time he was off his meds?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow. Of course, he doesn’t need to ask, he knows they do. They all do. “It might be hard but we – you – definitely need to talk to him. He can’t go on this way.”

“He might not want to listen to us,” Donghyuck rationalizes. 

“Let’s tell Chenle,” Jeno suggests.

Jaemin stares at him in surprise. “You want to send the baby to the lions’ den?”

“Chenle is Renjun’s favourite,” Jeno says matter-of-factly, “and he’s got nothing to do with any of this. Renjun won’t turn him away, won’t snap at him. Jisung is already involved in this mess if only because he’s a nosy bitch and Mark would ask too many questions, but Chenle is oblivious.”

“Bless his little heart,” Donghyuck mutters. “Alright, we can tell him tonight.”

~

Chenle is more than willing to talk to Renjun. Jaemin can tell that Chenle isn’t quite as clueless as they originally thought, but unlike Jisung, he doesn’t ask too many questions. Chenle is the complete opposite of Jisung in that sense: he won’t prod. 

The three stay in the living room. There’s too much tension building up inside them, and they listen carefully for Chenle. They hear him knock on the door to the shared room, entering after he gets no response. There’s silence for a minute, then voices that get increasingly louder until Renjun shouts at him to get out.

Seconds later, Chenle is running downstairs, his face wet with tears. Jeno is on his feet instantly, rushing to Chenle and asking him what’s wrong. Chenle is frantic, trying to speak faster than possible, yet he finally spits out, “Renjun ge is doing it again.”

If the use of the Chinese honorifics had been dropped at any other time, Jaemin would have paid more attention, maybe even tease Chenle for it – Chenle hasn’t called Renjun ‘ge’ in years. But Jaemin can only feel dread settle in his tummy at Chenle’s words, especially when he makes a slashing motion against his wrist. As if they didn’t know what he meant before.

Mark, who’d been alerted of the noise and come rushing back inside from where he and Jisung were watering the plants, widens his eyes and runs upstairs. Jeno goes after him, and Jaemin wants to go as well, but someone needs to console Chenle and Jisung and he knows Donghyuck can’t do it by himself.

“He’ll be fine,” Jaemin hushes Chenle, tugging him into a hug. Over Chenle’s hair, Jaemin sees Jisung’s disapproving stare, that look that tells Jaemin that Jisung blames him, and he thinks he does so, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting from mobile is still a nightmare
> 
> next chapter will be split in two parts bc it will cover half the things that were supposed to go on this one and the ones that were meant for that one but i will do my best to post them at the same time


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh hello yeah i know it's been a while but process is made here so enjoy

Renjun isn’t allowed to be alone again, per Mark’s instructions. He has someone breathing down his neck every hour of every day, all week, be it Mark or Jisung or Chenle or Donghyuck. Jeno avoids him for all he’s worth, as if Renjun were the plague and Jeno a weak mortal, and Jaemin’s face is constantly set in a pained expression if they so much as breathe the same air. They both seem set on running away whenever they see him. At least Donghyuck is talking to him; at first his voice was saccharine sweet and his smiles were too superficial, but over time, he reverts to his usual self and indulges in Renjun’s careless banter in an attempt to keep up a sense of normalcy in their new reality.

All sharp objects are promptly removed from Renjun’s vicinity, as well. The razor, the Swiss pocketknife, the hunting knives, all of it is put away and he isn’t told where. Mark names himself in charge of Renjun’s health and watches him like a hawk, monitors his medicine intake and frowns disapprovingly until Renjun swallows; then, he checks to see he actually did swallow and isn’t just storing the pills under his tongue, as he is prone to do. They’re rationing the pills he takes, and yet he’s quickly running out of them.

Renjun appreciates the concern, he really does, but he hates his medicines. One of them is an antidepressant that leaves him feeling all jittery and restless, and Renjun spends more nights than not staring at the ceiling fan in the living room, as quiet as he can so he doesn’t alert anyone, and trying not to go crazy. The others are slightly less inconvenient, save for one that gives him migraines and makes him want to scratch his skin off. His appetite increases tenfold and that, combined with the bare-minimum physical activity he’s been performing lately, causes him to gain weight, enough for there to be a slight swell in his tummy. Renjun can’t bring himself to care.

Some days, he’s manic and is ticked off by the littlest things. He blows up on Jisung for moving the coffee and throws things around until he’s huffing and out of energy, his headache getting worse and worse with each scream but unable to stop yelling. It feels like his thoughts are getting out of hand and threatening to swallow him and it makes him want to crawl out of his skull. He’s loud and dramatic and doesn’t stop until everyone is paying attention; sometimes, someone else will have enough and scream back and it gives Renjun a sick pleasure to see such reaction. Jaemin, especially, falls for it; he’s always had a short temper to match Renjun’s and he grows sick of Renjun’s behaviour the fastest. It doesn’t matter how many times the others tell him to let Renjun be, Jaemin can’t do it.

On other days, he’s depressed and lacks the will to get out of bed. Chenle tries to coax him out of the cocoon of blankets with promises of food and cuddles in the living room, but Renjun turns him away. On those days, it pains him to see how much the others are suffering because of him and it makes him even angrier than when he’s manic, but this time he’s actually just mad at himself for being as sick as he is. If he can’t even function like a human being, then what good is he? His anger is more irrational like that. He sleeps a lot when he’s depressed, since it seems to be the only thing to keep him from screaming.

It seems like, no matter if he’s manic or not, he’s unable to feel anything other than anger. It simmers under his skin and boils over the second Renjun lets it.

It’s not normal for him to go from one end to another in such short time and it should be more concerning for him than it is. But if he’s being honest, manic or depressed, he doesn’t care that he seems to be fraying at the edges. He just wants it to end, one way or another.

~

Mark checks his wrists every morning and every night. If Renjun is unwilling to get up, Mark will simply tug his sweater’s sleeves up to his elbows and turn Renjun’s hand one side and another, then stare at Renjun to see if he’s going to allow him to check his thighs or not. Mark knows his tricks, the little places Renjun chooses because they aren’t too visible and therefore not obvious. When they were younger and Renjun started cutting for the first time, he’d managed to fool everyone by slicing into his thighs instead of wrists – it worked for months.

Try as he might, Renjun can’t figure out their system. He knows there must be one, some kind of rotation or schedule, something to keep track of their mother goose activities. Whatever it is, it’s smart and easily concealed. And it sucks, because it means Renjun doesn’t get a second to himself and he’s in desperate need for some. All he wants are a few minutes to sit alone in the bathroom with the sharp blade he hid inside the toilet’s tank and his thoughts.

Renjun distracts himself by hearing the news. TV has been down for a while but military stations still broadcast to some frequencies and they were lucky enough to tune in on one the day they turned on the TV and saw nothing but static. Renjun spends many nights listening to the discouraging news over the crackling of the signal, until the sun is rising and his eyelids finally stay shut. He learns about the military tactics, the safe camps located in the big cities and considers mentioning them to the others, but it always fades to the back of his head as he dozes off and forgets all about it when he wakes up.

~

The idea of going into the city is Chenle’s.

They’ve been at the house for almost three months and while they haven’t burned through their supplies, it would definitely be a lot smarter if they went looking for more, before they’re near the low numbers. And since Chenle was put in charge of the pantry, they figure he knows what he’s talking about.

Chenle and Jisung are banned from leaving the house. It’s all under the pretext of having someone stay behind to hold down the fort, but everyone knows it’s because Mark thinks they’re too young and that he needs to protect them. Expectedly, they both argue and put up a fight, but Mark isn’t so easily swayed anymore and he’s already put his foot down. Jisung and Chenle are staying and that’s final.

Renjun wants to stay as well. He hasn’t been allowed to even practice shooting and he’s sure he would be less than useless out in the real world. There’s also the fact that he doesn’t think he’d be able to cope with things the way they are and he doesn’t want to risk having a breakdown and put the others in danger. And, originally, he _was_ supposed to stay. They all agreed on it from the get go, but it changes after Donghyuck wakes up one day with a serious case of an oil gland infection. His right eye is completely shut, red and swollen, and the few times he tries opening his eye to show he can still go, an expression of pure pain flashes across his face and he runs into a doorway when he tries to walk.

“We need four people,” Mark says ruefully to Renjun. “Three isn’t a safe number. I’m sorry, Injun, but you have to come with us.”

It sucks balls. They take the Escalade because it’s the biggest and leave before dawn with backpacks full of water bottles and canned food, weapons tossed in after careful consideration from Mark and Jaemin. They take turns to drive; Renjun sits alongside Mark as the older boy drives, then in the backseat when Jaemin takes over the steering wheel. They drive nonstop for an entire day and night, pulling over for a couple of minutes every few hours to stretch their limbs and switch places.

Mark is full of nervous chatter at first. He’s the only one talking in the stifling air of the car, rambling about whatever comes to mind, ranging from things that happen in the cabin to memories from their early years of friendship. But not even golden boy Mark Lee can talk for 48 hours straight and he eventually runs out of energy, the car plunged into silence once more. Renjun stares out the window, takes long naps and sulks. Jeno and Jaemin sit tense and Mark fidgets.

The closer they get to the city, the fewer bars they get on their phones. Not that it matters, anyway; communications died definitely two weeks after the outbreak. The phones are with them for show; just in case. There are cars piled on the highway, wrecked and blown up, discarded suitcases and trash that litters the streets. Some houses on the road are burned or pillaged, as are the rest-stops and shops. They drive past a farm and Jeno can’t stifle a gasp at the sight of the dead animals lying around, a cow close enough to the road for them to see the guts spilling out of the slashed belly.

“If this is what it looks like on the road,” Renjun murmurs to himself bitterly, “I don’t want to see the city.”

No one says anything to that.

~

Renjun thinks back to the first zombie movie he ever watched.

It was Resident Evil. He remembers the end of the movie, with Alice walking out into the streets of Raccoon City to find everything deserted, grey and dirty. Renjun actually watched all the movies in a row, after the final one was released, and his main thought at the franchise was that it was funny how Alice seemed to wake up naked in a lab every couple of months. He made jokes about it to Jaemin and then completely forgot it. He never paid any attention to the actual apocalypse – not more than necessary to follow the storyline, either way.

Right now, as they drive into the city, Renjun laments he didn’t. He’s violently reminded of that scene, the images too similar for comfort.

Their city is completely destroyed. The buildings are vandalized, the streets grimy and devoid of people. There aren’t signs of life anywhere they go, so they park the car somewhere that seems safe and step out. Renjun has to narrow his eyes against the harshness of the sun and regrets not bringing his sunglasses with him.

“We’ll go in pairs,” Mark says. “Renjun can come with me and you two can go together. We’ll meet back here in an hour. No exceptions.”

“No,” Jaemin interrupts suddenly. Renjun startles but he doesn’t lift his gaze to look at him. “I want to go with Renjun.”

“Why?” Mark blurts. He sounds genuinely surprised.

Jaemin’s voice is icy when he says, “None of your business.” Renjun raises an eyebrow and finally looks at him – Jaemin is engaged in a stare down with Mark, while Jeno fidgets nervously next to him. Jaemin, who’s typically so sweet and affectionate to Mark, is now attempting to put him ten feet under with just his stare.

“It is my business,” Mark counters. “Renjun is my friend. You haven’t even tried to help the past months so why the fuck are you suddenly so interested in him?”

“Back off.” Jaemin is breathing heavily.

Mark turns to look at Renjun and asks him, his voice far gentler than when he was talking to Jaemin. “Are you okay with this?”

Renjun shrugs one shoulder. He doesn’t particularly mind – he’ll just ignore Jaemin. There’s no need to be so worked up over this. Jaemin will probably try to talk about what happened all those weeks ago, the night they got drunk and decided it was time to be honest with each other; Renjun is already thinking about what he can do to distract himself in the meantime.

Mark looks displeased. There’s an argument at the tip of his tongue that Renjun cuts off with, “Let’s get cracking, then.”

~

Renjun asks to make a pit stop at the closest pharmacy. Well, he doesn’t ask as much as he simply waltzes in and assumes Jaemin will follow him, which he does. Jaemin stays near the front door, kicking at stray papers left on the ground and riffling through brochures on the counter. Renjun goes straight for the racks behind the counter and peers at all the labels, hoping to find anything that sounds familiar enough to be trusted. He dumps everything he can into his backpack and takes other things as well, such as medication for Donghyuck’s eye and for all the cuts and scrapes that they bear on their bodies.

Jaemin hasn’t talked at all in the past twenty minutes and Renjun is admittedly feeling nervous. He can take an angry Jaemin any day, but stony silent Jaemin is too unpredictable for his taste. Renjun does his best to steel his nerves and keep his head held high, yet the determination crumbles with every passing minute, a sandcastle facing off a storm.

“We should check out the minimart across the street,” Renjun says. His voice, meant to be strong, sounds frail. Renjun hates it. “There could be food there.” Jaemin doesn’t even bother to give a response.

Renjun grows frustrated quickly. He grinds his jaw while he piles tuna cans on a basket and peers at expiration dates on miscellaneous products, every sense in his body too focused on Jaemin’s presence at the other end of the aisle. Jaemin is so _calm_ , Renjun doesn’t feel safe. But he keeps it in for as long as he can, as they browse the minimart and walk along the void streets. A lone bird chirps from a tree branch and flies away when they near it. Renjun is disappointed – the birds around the cabin always let him get close, some even hop on his fingers, as if he were some sort of modern, male Snow White. He likes Tiana better, but he wouldn’t mind being any Disney princess too much.

The sun is high and bright in the sky when Renjun finally snaps. He halts in his step and veers around to stare at Jaemin with a frown. “Why did you want to come with me if you aren’t even going to talk?” It sounds… surprisingly pitiful. Renjun winces at the crack in his voice.

Silence. It lasts too much, just Jaemin looking at him with expressionless eyes and cold silence. Renjun itches to run away but he forces his feet to stay rooted to the spot. Their shadows shift under the sunlight before Jaemin speaks.

“Why were you such a dick to Jeno?”

The question doesn’t exactly catch him off guard. Renjun could see coming from miles away that this entire charade had something to do with Jeno. Renjun raises both his eyebrows and scoffs at Jaemin. “Seriously? I thought we were past this. Jeno and I were just fooling around.” Renjun turns on his feet and keeps walking, this time in the direction of the mall blocks away from their current location. He wills himself to feel as unaffected as he’s trying to pass off, but the reality is that his heart aches if he so much as thinks about the expression Jeno wore that night as Renjun walked away.

“Is that why he’s been so miserable? Why you were cutting again and stopped taking your meds?” Jaemin always goes for the kill. “That doesn’t scream casual to me, or to anyone with common sense and an IQ higher than sixty points.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Renjun says, “so shut it.”

“No,” Jaemin cuts him off. Their footsteps echo in the silence of the city. “Everyone else might walk on eggshells around you but I’m tired of it. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“You can’t help me,” Renjun mutters bitterly. “Not even those stupid drugs can so don’t waste your breath.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Is that what this is about? Your condition?”

“Yes. My _condition_. My stupid brain is fucked up, Jaemin.”

“And you think Jeno cares about that? He loves you, regardless of whether you have crossed wires or not.”

Renjun can feel himself begin to shake. “Don’t say that.”

“What, say that he loves you? Because he does. I know I shouldn’t be so okay with it but fuck that, society is dead, anyways. I want Jeno to be happy and he hasn’t been since you decided to break his heart just because you can’t handle your own damn self. He thinks you’re good enough for him so why can’t you?”

“Do _you_ think I’m good enough?”

Jaemin blinks. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” he utters, “What matters is what Jeno wants. And that’s you.”

“I don’t deserve him.” There. Renjun said it. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest even as hot tears cloud his gaze. “Jeno deserves someone who can be there with him and for him one hundred per cent and I’m not that someone. You and Donghyuck are.”

A tsk. Renjun lifts an eyebrow at Jaemin’s clear displeasure and says, “It’s like you want your boyfriend running off into the arms of another guy.”

“I want him happy,” Jaemin stresses, “As I’ve said before. That’s all that matters to me. Donghyuck and I make him happy, yes, but he’s been moping and crying over you for weeks and it sucks that we can’t do anything to help because it isn’t about us. This is about you and him.”

“Do you really think that dealing with me will make him happy? Because I highly doubt it. I deal with my shit all the time and I’m ready for death to take me so do the math.”

Jaemin tsks again. Renjun is tempted to tell him he can shove his tsks up his ass.

“Stop talking like that,” Jaemin sighs, “You know it’s not good. I do pay attention to you, and I paid attention when you told us what the doctor indicated. I can’t let you say those things about yourself.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Well, shit. Renjun definitely didn’t mean to say that aloud in the slightest. It’s too late to take it back now, though, and Jaemin is obviously mulling over it.

“I know we had a rocky start,” Jaemin says carefully, “and that we’ve had our differences. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of my closest friends and that I care for you and love you. And if Jeno makes you happy – and I know he does, don’t even try to deny it – then, that’s what I want for you.”

Renjun can’t say anything to that. All he does is squeeze Jaemin’s hand briefly before walking ahead and hope Jaemin catches on to what he meant.

~

Problems arise as they arrive to the mall. It’s a tall building, the walls made entirely of glass and the front and side entrances decorated with bushes and flowers. It used to be pretty, frequented often by their group of friends because that’s where the best frozen yoghurt stand was, or at least according to them. Renjun can’t count the amount of times they met at the fountain in the centre of the mall and splashed water at each other until the security guard approached them. A particular memory comes to mind: Jisung dragging Renjun around the mall in search for the best tuxedo he could wear to his graduation, fretting nervously about having to match with Lucy.

Today, there’s barely any mall left at all. The glass is scattered on the ground and the foliage outside is brown and dead, the flowers limp on the ground. It’s a sad visage. Renjun can’t believe what he’s seeing - how can something so tightly woven into his life be gone like this? If he had any intentions left of going to his childhood home, they’re gone now.

“Should we go in?” Jaemin suggests weakly. It’s clear he doesn’t want to do it and he’s hoping Renjun will decline. There’s just something eerie and forbidding about the place, everything beyond the used-to-be glass doors as dark as a wolf’s mouth.

Renjun doesn’t disappoint. They’re ten feet away from the entrance when they hear a shout from inside the mall. It’s definitely human and it doesn’t belong to any of their friends – but it is there, nonetheless. Renjun and Jaemin freeze on the spot and stare at each other in a combination of surprise, fear and anxiety. They have a silent conversation with their eyes; just like the ones that they used to have when they weren’t separated by miles of problems and miscommunication: Renjun says they should check it out; Jaemin is ready to book it. In the end, their intact moral forces them to turn back around and march inside.

A rat runs past Renjun’s feet. Another cry echoes around the building, this time more desperate than the last. Jaemin takes off in the general direction of the sound and Renjun follows, their footsteps pounding against the tile floor and resonating all over the place. They’re so _loud_ ; Renjun finally realizes just how truly quiet the outside world is. A gunshot rings around the mall and it causes Renjun’s hear to slam painfully against his ribcage

It all happens in a matter of seconds, perhaps no more than two minutes at most, but it feels to Renjun as if time crawls by at the breakneck speed of a snail.

They crash through a row of mannequins and find themselves in the middle of a food court. There are two boys on the court, meters from them: one of them has a face too gentle for his height, a cherub in disguise, while the other one is all sharp angles and slanted eyes that burn with ferocity. The source of the gunshot lies unmoving on the ground, a large dog with a bullet wound on the side of its head and blood pooled around it. Other than the obvious, there is something terribly wrong about the hound, the way its limbs are twisted and the sharpness of its teeth. Renjun never stopped to think about the possibility of animals being infected as well, but now he feels silly not to have.

Distracted by the dog, it takes Renjun a while to notice the dilemma going on several feet away from them. The pretty boy is crying, holding onto his partner with shaky hands and a frantic shake of his head in denial of something Renjun can’t figure out for the life of him. The other boy seems furious even as he lies on his back and shouts at his friend, words slurred and unintelligible. Jaemin, frozen next to Renjun, releases a choked off sound and grasps Renjun’s shirt sleeve with burning apprehension. Renjun still doesn’t know what’s happening; his brain feels like it’s trying to run through quicksand and the faster he pushes his legs, the harder he tries to understand, the more he sinks down.

Renjun’s eyes follow the way the boy on the ground reaches for his friend, sticks his hand into his jacket and pulls out a gun. His friend denies with his head once more, refuses to do whatever the boy is asking him to, fresh tears spill out of his eyes and over his cheeks but fail to make him anything but even more beautiful than before.

Time slows to a stop. Renjun is living an out of body experience, he’s sure. He watches the boy on the ground, the one that Renjun has just now realized is lying on a pool of his own blood, press the barrel of the gun to the side of his head and pull the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick note: i am very very busy with uni rn which is why updates have been so slow, and i know that my cc has been kind of dead lately but i have too many priorites at the moment to really focus on social media, please understand!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Renjun’s hands are still shaking hours later. Jaemin hasn’t spoken a word since they left the mall with the lone survivor of the attack, a boy that didn’t provide a name and didn’t ask for theirs. It’s okay, though; Renjun doesn’t think he’d be able to say anything in such state. The boy walks ahead of them with wobbly legs, his mind definitely somewhere else and his cheeks stained with drying tears – Renjun thought for a second that the boy had forgotten about their existence, but he looks back every couple of blocks and nods to himself when he makes sure they’re still there, so Renjun deems it safe to keep following him.

The sun sets and Renjun’s entire body tightens. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility of another attack right after witnessing something so awful earlier in the afternoon, for multiple reasons, but mostly because he doesn’t believe the boy would survive it. 

There’s also the fact that Renjun has no idea where Jeno and Mark are. It’s been hours since they were supposed to meet back at the car and Renjun knows they’re going to be in big trouble when Mark sees them – if they ever meet again, that is. Jaemin doesn’t lift his gaze from the ground even after Renjun tries catching his attention, to ask if they should head back to the car or keep going with the stranger. 

As it turns out, Renjun doesn’t have to make a decision.

Renjun rounds the corner and bumps into someone. His reflexes are quick to retreat his gun from his belt, but his eyes adjust to the darkness and he sees the familiar slope of Mark’s nose and the broad line of his shoulders and he sighs out in relief. Jeno is right behind him; his features are overcome with worry, sadness and something that appears to be premature grief. Mark’s eyes widen in surprise and he nearly shouts if it weren’t for the strange boy slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t make any noise,” the boy hisses at him. His voice is surprisingly gentle under the edge of a threat. “We don’t know what’s around here.”

Mark looks at Renjun and Jaemin with a bewildered expression. Jeno fidgets with his hands and looks torn between lunging forward to crush them in a hug and fainting to the ground. Renjun thinks he can relate to the sensation; he doesn’t think he can survive his heart beating as fast as it is. 

“The safe house isn’t too far from here, come on,” the boy continues. He keeps on walking without waiting for any of them to say anything else. 

Jeno sidles up to Jaemin and walks right beside him without sparing Renjun a look. Renjun would love to pretend it doesn’t bother him, but the reality is that he feels like he could die of heartbreak right about now. He sticks to Mark and keeps his eyes on the ground, relying on his sense of hearing to protect him and looking at the soles of the boy’s shoes to stay on his tail. The way the boy walks is eerie and jarring to Renjun – he doesn’t make a single sound, like a ghost. 

“Who’s that?” Mark asks him quietly. Of course, not even the smallest of whispers would go unnoticed in such silence of the city, but the boy doesn’t turn around or even acknowledge he heard anything at all. “And where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you two, dimwits.”

“I don’t know his name,” Renjun sighs softly. “We met him a while back, at the mall. It’s a long story; can we please talk about it later?”

“Yes, please talk about it later,” the boy snaps. “I’m telling you, it’s not safe here. But does anyone ever listen to me? Of course not,” he mutters bitterly to himself. Renjun decides it’s time they shut up, lest their guide get sick of them and leaves them to fend for themselves. 

A winding path of blocks and alleys follows. Renjun is more than a hundred per cent sure the boy is deliberately taking the long road to throw them off, and this is a part of the city they never frequented – call them spoiled if you will, but the slums were not exactly their preferred hangouts – and so Renjun can’t tell head from toes in these streets. The walls are full of graffiti and half torn posters, but nothing is good enough for identification, yet Renjun keeps an eye out for the street names and signs, just in case he needs it. He probably will; Renjun isn’t stupid, thank you very much, he doesn’t trust this boy in the slightest. But he’s also their only hope to get out of danger at the moment and he guesses he’ll have to take what he can get.

They arrive at what looks like a warehouse. It’s a big, cement block, only one story tall but long enough to store all of their childhood homes three times over inside it, with rusty double doors that are ten feet tall every twenty meters or so. The boy walks with a finger trailing the wall, his shoulder bumping into the structure often, his shoes yet to make a sound on the ground.

Finally, the boy stops at the end of the building and taps on the double doors he stands in front of in a repetitive manner. It must be some kind of code or secret password, like the one Renjun and Donghyuck had as kids when they wanted to talk in private. The doors spring open and Renjun finds himself face to face with the inside of a wolf’s mouth – that’s how dark it is inside the warehouse. Nonetheless, the boy walks inside with a simple wave for them to follow him. Renjun doesn’t see how they have another choice and is the first to go. Mark goes after him, then finally Jeno and Jaemin. The doors fall shut after Jaemin’s second step inside and the lights are turned on.

They are inside a safe house - that much is obvious. But it’s completely different to how their cabin is: the cabin is full of light and isn’t weighed down by the terrible stench of tragedy, much unlike this warehouse, which is grimy and dirty and three seconds in already has Renjun’s chest feeling too tight for comfort. There are countless of weapons thrown on the ground, limp mattresses pressed to the walls and trash littering every inch. There’s the distinct smell of piss and blood and death that fills Renjun’s nostrils and makes his head ache, and the silence threatens to drive him nuts.

Several dozens of people are inside the warehouse, all of them holding some sort of gun or knife, and each pair of eyes trained on them with pure distrust. Renjun would have barrelled into Mark if he weren’t already standing still, because Mark halts in his steps, and the fear is too palpable around him. Jeno and Jaemin don’t move either and time itself seems to slow to a stop as Renjun waits for something to happen.

“Jungwoo.” A voice finally breaks the silence. Renjun doesn’t move his head, but his eyes follow the source to another boy near the back of the room: he can’t be over twenty-five years old, his black hair red at the tips, most likely from a past hair dye, his cheeks sunken and his eyes terribly young and old at the same time. “Who are they?”

The boy, whose name is apparently Jungwoo, hasn’t stopped walking since they entered the warehouse. He’s the only thing that seems to be alive, and it isn’t a pretty sight. “I don’t know their names, but they’re survivors. I brought them here so they could spend the night. I’ll get them out in the morning, relax.”

“Where’s Yuta?” another boy asks. This one has a thick accent, similar to Chenle’s when he’s upset and can’t be bothered to remember correct English, and his hands wring anxiously as he looks for this Yuta behind Renjun and his friends. 

Jungwoo finally stops walking. He’s near the boy who asked, but he doesn’t look at him when he says, “He’s dead. A canine. He shot himself before the infection could spread.”

No one else says a word after that.

~

“What happened to my car?”

It’s the first thing Jaemin asks. They’re sitting in a corner of the warehouse, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and untrusting gazes, and all it does is remind Renjun that he’s lucky to have his friends with him. The first boy to speak to Jungwoo when they entered introduced himself as Taeyong and offered them a mattress to sleep in for the night, looking sheepish at not being able to provide more. 

Mark hesitates before he answers. “We’re not sure. It was gone when we went back to the parking lot.”

Jaemin curses under his breath. Renjun expects him to be at least mad at them for letting his car be stolen, but he doesn’t do much more than scowl at the ground for a minute, and then his expression smoothens out and it’s gone as soon as it comes. Jeno is sitting in absolute silence with his back to the wall and his eyes trained somewhere far off and Renjun has half the mind to shake him out of whatever stupor he’s in – but every time he’s about to reach out, to nudge his shoulder or say his name, he remembers he hasn’t spoken to him in what feels like an eternity and the words die in his throat.

Jungwoo returns to them after an hour or two of them sitting around. He’s scrubbed his face clean of all the blood and dirt, and has changed into clothes that are only slightly cleaner than his previous ones, his hair curled over his ears and forehead and his features younger than before. He carries bottles of water in his hands and Tupperware containers with tuna and what appear to be cut up onions and tomatoes.

“Here,” Jungwoo says to them, his voice still as gentle as Renjun remembered it to be from the few words he spoke earlier in the evening, “I figured you might be hungry.”

He doesn’t let any of them thank him for the food or the water. Jungwoo waves his hand to brush them off and sits cross-legged on the ground in front of them, digging into his own meal. The four of them eat in silence as well; Renjun hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until he had the first spoonful of tuna in his mouth and his cheeks had produced so much saliva it’d hurt. 

“Jungwoo,” Mark says. Jungwoo hums around his food and looks at him in curiosity. “We have food in our backpacks, let me just -”

Jungwoo stops Mark right away. Mark freezes in confusion as Jungwoo’s hand lands on his arm and his eyes warn him not to. “Don’t,” he says tightly, “that’s yours. I know you guys have somewhere else to go, other friends. Keep an eye on your things and that’s it.”

Mark is obviously lost, but he nods either way and zips up his backpack again. Jungwoo nods as well, pleased to see Mark is listening to him, and goes back to his meal. After he’s done, Jungwoo clears his throat and says, “I’ll talk to Taeyong tomorrow to see if we can give you a ride to your safe house. I know it sucks to be separated from your friends.”

He sounds like he definitely knows what it feels like. Renjun’s heart tugs in sympathy and it surprises him – it’s been a while since he last felt any sort of empathy for others. It’s progress, at least. 

“Thank you.” It’s the first words Jeno speaks in hours. His voice is meek but Jungwoo tilts his head in acknowledgment and scrapes off what’s left in his lunchbox, and then gets up with a goodnight and a tight-lipped smile. 

Renjun doesn’t sleep at all that night. He’s too hyperaware of everything going on around him, his senses in absolute edge: he hears every shift of bodies on torn sheets, every scuffle of feet on the ground, smells a baby’s dirty diaper being changed and he wants to tear his skin off. It’s all too much and he feels a panic attack build in the back of his throat – his doctor’s voice tells him it’s not a panic attack, otherwise he wouldn’t tell he’s having one until it goes away, but what does he know? –, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes and his body going tight in apprehension. God, he wants to go back to the cabin, wants to be back in his bed with his blankets and Chenle’s steady breathing next to him because the younger boy has taken to crashing with him at night. 

He wants to go back to Mark’s warmth. Mark switched rooms with Jeno and is now sleeping with Renjun, Jisung and Chenle, crammed into a twin-sized bed with Renjun and it’s definitely too hot for comfort, yet it helps Renjun sleep better when his thoughts get too loud. Tonight, Mark is on the other side of the mattress, definitely not sleeping either, but they’re separated by a wall comprised of Jeno and Jaemin, and Renjun is too scared of reaching across them for Mark’s hand, even though his own is itching to at least hold on to Mark’s thumb or wrist.

It’s still dark inside when Jeno twists around to look at him. The boy had been with his back turned to Renjun all night, only serving to make Renjun feel even more isolated than before, but he’s suddenly facing Renjun and the Chinese boy wants nothing more than to run away. Jeno’s eyes are too intimately soft for him. 

“What?” Renjun croaks out. His voice protests at the disuse. 

Jeno doesn’t speak at first. His hand only reaches out to Renjun and tugs him in closer and Renjun isn’t prepared to fight him off, his body going willingly until his head is right above Jeno’s heart. Renjun hates how his mind immediately settles down, the familiar sensation of Jeno’s heartbeat lulling him. There are several seconds of absolute peace, then Renjun is thrashing and attempting to get away – that is, until Jaemin himself puts a hand on Renjun’s shoulder and shakes his head. 

Renjun has been friends with Jaemin since middle school. He knows the boy like the back of his hand and he can see the approval, the consent that Jaemin is trying to convey to him. Jeno doesn’t move, his arm still curled around Renjun, and Renjun slowly relaxes into his hold. Jaemin’s eyes glint with pride, and Mark turns to give him a smile before he goes back to his own thoughts.

Renjun doesn’t sleep, nothing in the world would be able to make him chill as much, but at least the hours go by a little faster with Jeno’s scent so close to his nose and his arm heavy on his waist.

~

They don’t talk about it in the morning. Jaemin is back to his usual self, as is Jeno, bickering with each other about whatever while holding hands – the only difference is that Jeno’s other hand is locked with Renjun’s and he makes sure to rub his thumb into his skin every few minutes, just a simple reminder that he’s there. Mark calls them gross with a smile on his face.

Jungwoo swings by what feels like an hour after the sun rises. A few other boys and girls are behind him, all of them as young as they are, yet their eyes are like Taeyong’s – hardened by too many ugly things. 

“I talked to Taeyong,” Jungwoo says in lieu of greeting, “we can give you a ride as far out as the intersection, then you’ll have to find a way back to your safe house. But it’s gonna have to wait a few days.”

A protest builds up inside Renjun’s throat immediately. It must show on all their faces that they aren’t pleased at all by the news because Jungwoo continues, “None of our cars have gas at the moment and Taeyong says there’s no one available to go out. Sorry, kids, but it seems like you’re stuck with us for a while.”

He then proceeds to introduce them to the people with him – the girls are Yerim and Eunbin, and the boys are Yangyang, Giwook and Eric. They’re approximately the same age as Renjun and his friends, as he had deduced, and Jungwoo leaves them with an instruction to mingle. It’s a little strange to be conversing as if nothing is wrong, but Renjun can’t deny it helps make him feel a little better all the same. Later in the day, Yangyang introduces Renjun to his other friends, Yukhei and Dejun and Kunhang, and Eric introduces Jeno to his friends Felix, Hyunjoon and Sunwoo, while Jaemin goes off with Giwook to meet his best friends. Mark stays with the girls, who in turn take him to meet someone called Mina.

The days go by in a bit of a blur to Renjun. During those days, Renjun goes out once or twice a day with Jungwoo and a few others – Hoseok, Minhyuk, Chungha, Nayeon, and Dahyun – to look for gasoline for the numerous cars in their fleet, while Jeno, Jaemin and Mark are tasked with other jobs to help around the warehouse; Jeno is put in kitchen duty, which is fancy talk for a small stove towards the middle of the building where they cook copious amounts of rice and beans, while Jaemin and Mark help with the smaller children and volunteer to clean the guns with Seongwoo. He doesn’t mean to grow attached to any of the people in the warehouse, but it happens anyway. And he knows the others do and feel the same, which is why their fifth day in the warehouse sucks even more.

It starts out as a day like any other.

Renjun has finally been able to sleep at night – he still knows everything going on around him, but he sleeps through it either way. He begins to wake up when he hears scurrying and hushed conversations, then fully to an insistent hand on his shoulder. Jungwoo is hovering above him, his generally sweet face pinched in panic. 

“They followed us here,” Jungwoo whispers to him franticly, “We need to get out.”  
Renjun loses track of time. His surroundings slowly come into focus, the quick movements of everyone hurrying around in as much silence as they can manage, while the doors rattle outside. Renjun’s heart sinks to his stomach and he rushes to get up, Jeno doing the same even if he still isn’t fully aware of what’s happening.

People are already gathering in groups around them. Weapons are handed – or tossed, in many cases – to everyone within reach, the smaller children herded together to a corner and attempted to be hushed by the elderly. Renjun throws his backpack over his shoulder and helps Jaemin to his feet, the four of them then working together to make sure all their belongings are in place. 

The warehouse's doors give out after incessant shoves from outside, and a hoard enters the building. It’s the worst thing Renjun has seen in his life: limbs twisted at unnatural angles, eyes either bulging or flat out hanging from their sockets, skin green and red from pus and blood. And it doesn’t stop there, either. 

Those closest to the doors go first. Renjun sees Younghoon go down in a flail of arms and a cut off shout; Seungyeon shoots one zombie in the face but is tackled to the ground by another, her hair flying around her; Yeeun, who’d taken Jeno under her wing in the kitchen and had spent hours just talking to him, has her throat ripped out before the first scream can leave her mouth. Jaemin holds Jeno back from doing anything rash, even as Jeno’s face is contorted in pure grief and rage.

Renjun doesn’t want to look anymore. He follows the stream of people rushing for the opposite exit, his shoes pounding against the ground. He, Jeno, Mark and Jaemin form a tightly knit group as they run. Jungwoo is right behind them with a rifle slung over his shoulder. It is absolute chaos inside the warehouse but outside is worse. 

Cars are quickly pulling out of the parking lot. Renjun feels like cursing everyone to hell as people leave without thinking of others, but at the back of his mind, even in such situation, he knows he would do the same. 

Mere meters from where they are standing, Hyejin is limping towards her friends, her leg sporting the ugliest bite mark Renjun has seen in his life; he’s not surprised when he sees Soyou tearfully start the car and drive away before Hyejin reaches them. He’s not surprised when Hyejin shouts in frustration, then shoots herself with her revolver, either.

A Jeep screeches to a halt in front of them. Yukhei is hanging from the driver’s side window, waving wildly at them to get inside, and their new friends are all inside as well, squished in with whatever they could grab from the warehouse. Renjun doesn’t think twice before he’s throwing himself into the backseat along with Jaemin, while Jeno and Mark jump into the open trunk. Jungwoo goes last; tapping the roof of the car when everyone’s in and Yukhei floors the gas pedal.

There are still zombies pouring in and out of the building. Renjun can’t tear his eyes away from the window, can’t stop seeing the disaster unfold: Woojin, Soobin, Jackson, Yubin, Taeil, Chengxiao, Doyoung, Sicheng, Haseul, Jinsol, Yunjin, and countless others are too late to get away, are unable to defend themselves from the zombies. Renjun sees people jump through the windows and roll on glass just to put some distance between them and the monsters, others tugging their friends and family along. 

“Go north,” Renjun tells Yukhei, “take the intersection and then highway 71.” He’s giving him the directions to the cabin, the only place that Renjun can think of that will be safe at all. “Just, drive around until you’re sure we’ve lost them.”

They’re not even out of the terrain when a zombie grabs hold of Mina’s hair, sitting in the trunk, and tears her out of the car. Her shout is lost in the sound of her skull colliding with the ground. Mark has no time to react and he’s left to gape at the spot where she just had been.

~

The car is silent. Mark hasn’t spoken a word since they left the area of the warehouse, no one has, really. Renjun felt like throwing up for twenty minutes straight, but he squashed it down because there was no time to pull over – it was too risky.

Yukhei drives until they find a supermarket in an area that isn’t crawling with zombies. They haven’t seen any other car from Taeyong’s fleet yet. “If we’re going somewhere far, we’ll have to find more food.” His voice is so shaky; Renjun thinks it’s a miracle he could speak at all.

Renjun looks around at the other people inside the car: in the passenger’s seat, Hyunjin and Jisung are sitting together, with Felix squeezed on the floor of the car in front of them; in the backseat, Jungwoo, Jaemin and Renjun are sitting along with Eunbin, Heejin and Yeojin. In the trunk of the car, Yangyang, Mark, Kunhang, Jeno and Dejun are the only ones Renjun has actively talked to, but there’s also Hyunjoon, Eric and Seungmin. There are eighteen people total and Renjun fears more than one person will lose their neck during the ride.

“We also need another car,” Jungwoo says. As the oldest among them, he’s technically their leader. “Let’s split up, for a little while,” he must add, because Felix makes a choked off sound at the back of his throat, “and look for the things we need. That parking lot over there still has cars; it shouldn’t be too hard to find one we can take.”

Obviously, no one is happy about the idea. Seungmin still looks devastated at having lost Jeongin, as is everyone else over their own friends, morals are low and there’s no energy to survive, but they must do what it takes to live through another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was supposed to be a lot more graphic and a lot more people were supposed to die but a) i have a word count per chapter to keep and b) i wasn't able to write son dongju witness his twin be murdered so
> 
> pls let me know what you think! and i have a little poll: would you rather i skip to chenle's chapter with everyone back at the cabin or should i add another chapter from someone else's pov involving the rest of the city business?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, the final chapter!! it should have come out sooner but i've been very busy :(

Chenle looks up from his royal flush at the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside. Jisung eyes the shotgun leaning on the wall next to Chenle, his own fingers reaching across the table for the machete as he does. Without meaning to, he drops his cards and Chenle curses internally. He was winning.

“Donghyuck is outside,” Chenle mouths to Jisung. Jisung breathes deeply and doesn’t say anything in return. They stand up slowly, Chenle grabs the shotgun and tries to check for bullets in the quietest manner as he can as Jisung steps around the table, the machete held tightly in a white-knuckled hand.

Few feet separate them from the front door when they hear a commotion outside. Someone is shouting, then several people are doing so as well, but none says anything distinguishable amongst the chaos. Only one thing stands out to Chenle.

“That’s Donghyuck,” Jisung whispers harshly. Not that Chenle needed the confirmation; he could recognize the older boy’s voice anywhere, anytime, it’s one of the few things Chenle doesn’t think he could ever forget. Several seconds go by as they build the courage to step outside, the fear gripping at Chenle. He can’t go through this again.

They are met with an interesting sight. Donghyuck has his own weapon – a .50 he can barely carry – and he’s pointing it at a gaggle of people. What makes it interesting is that, one, none of the strangers – invaders? – have any kind of weapon aimed at Donghyuck, which would be the appropriate answer in the given situation and, two, Chenle can see Renjun at the head of the group.

A flash of relief before the anger settles in. Chenle wants to punch Renjun in the face, and then the other three assholes that left them to worry for over a week, the longest week of their lives, a sleepless week. A week of no eating or drinking because there was nothing in their minds but concern and fear.

Chenle and Jisung meet Donghyuck at the front of the house. They don’t lower their weapons for a second, not even after their friends push their way to the front of the group. Donghyuck shakes between the two of them, worsened only by Jaemin and Jeno edging closer to him. Mark, however, puts an arm in front of them, to hold them back. Smart move, Chenle thinks. He wouldn’t put it past him for Donghyuck to shoot them on sight, not with how upset he is, and Mark seemingly knows this. Mark always knows what Donghyuck is thinking, and it’s scary sometimes.

“This,” Donghyuck bites out, “better be the last time you fuckers do this shit. That goes to all of you, assholes.”

Mark is the one to answer. He nods, almost imperceptibly, and says, “We’re sorry, Hyuck. Things got out of hand.”

Chenle eyes Donghyuck. He’s seen first-hand what the uncertainty has done to him and he doubts Donghyuck will forgive that easily. But people can surprise you, sometimes, because Donghyuck lowers his gun and nods tightly. Then, he turns around and walks straight into the cabin, without so much as a look back.

Jeno and Jaemin stare after him. Renjun nudges them both forward and they nearly trip over each other in their haste to follow Donghyuck. Mark and Renjun then direct their attention to Chenle and Jisung, which sets off another chain of events.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Jisung says. “And who the fuck is all these people?”

“Look, Jisung, it’s a long story and we’ve been driving for nearly two days, can we not do this right now?” Renjun grumbles. He tries to push past them, but Jisung and Chenle are an unmovable force, a wall, and he comes up short. “Fine. You wanna talk. Let’s talk. Let’s talk about how I’ve seen more people I know die in a day than I ever had in my entire life. Let’s talk about how we were stuck in a city that should be the way we left it and it isn’t. Let’s talk about how I’ve had to kill people, more than you have, and how all I want is to take a nap but two brats won’t let me.”

Jisung, much how Donghyuck had, tremors in rage, but it’s Chenle who speaks first.

“Fuck you. Look, I’m sorry you had to go through that shit but you have no idea what we had to deal with in just a week.” Chenle sniffs. Hell, he’s not crying, not now, not in front of all these people and not when he has to put Renjun in his place. “There were three attempted break-ins, Renjun, _three_. That means three separate attacks, right where you’re standing, and only on one of those, the people left. The others thought they could take us and _we_ had to take them out, first.”

The strangers shift awkwardly. Some, Chenle can see, want to speak up, for whatever reason, but none does it. It’s a good thing, too, because Chenle isn’t beneath chewing them out before they can open their mouths.

“We had to scrub blood off the porch, had to drag dead bodies to the woods and bury them, had to patch our own wounds all while worrying over your asses,” Jisung says. He says it quietly, as an unpleasant fact, and it goes to show how tired he is. The purple bags under his eyes are evidence of the nights he has spent taking guard upstairs, perched on the windows facing the entrance.

“We’re sorry,” Mark repeats. Chenle hasn’t ever heard him sound so exhausted.

There is a short standoff. Chenle and Jisung against Mark, Renjun and a sea of unknown faces, with Donghyuck somewhere inside the cabin most likely trying to behead his two boyfriends – now, _that_ was a conversation Chenle never thought he would have.

Finally, it’s Jisung that sighs. “Whatever. You can explain everything inside. Although I don’t think we have enough chairs to sit everyone.”

~

Jisung is right, they don’t have enough chairs. Chenle weaves through the crowd in the living room until he’s able to take a sit next to Jisung, Donghyuck to his left with a scowl etched on his face. Chenle can’t be sure if he, Jeno and Jaemin are okay now or not, because the two seem at ease while Donghyuck doesn’t. The strangers – Chenle counted fourteen, a miracle they could fit in two cars – sit on various surfaces, though most are on the floor. They’re dirty with grime and dried blood and none lacks the distinct signs of sleeplessness. There’s a line by the kitchen sink to wash up.

Mark stands in the middle of the living room. Chenle thinks he looks a lot how he did back in high school, when he was running for class president and had to do a school-wide speech: his shoulders squared, back straight, chin high even if you can see the nervousness that dances behind his eyes. Back then, he also had his goddamn tattoo peeking over the collar of his shirt, although he had removed his piercings for the day lest the principal and teachers had a stroke. Today, the piercings glint under the light of the living room.

Chenle remembers that day very well, surprisingly. It was a disgustingly ordinary day, in spite of the elections and the general importance of it for Mark; the weather was nice, not too hot or cold, the stupid bird outside Chenle’s bedroom window didn’t screech its head off for once and Chenle’s mom cooked her typical oatmeal breakfast. Classes weren’t even cancelled or cut short; they had their regular schedule until lunchtime when everyone was summoned to the auditorium. Chenle sat on the front row, along the rest of their friends, and he videotaped Mark’s entire speech with a smile on his face and later on made fun of how sweaty he was under the direct spotlight.

This time, there is no spotlight, no podium and no large hall with over two hundred seats. It’s just Mark, dressed in fresh clothes and his face finally clean after he sprayed it with water from the sink. Renjun is upstairs, changing into new clothes as well.

Mark clears his throat. “Okay, um. Hi, uh, I guess. Fuck, I don’t know where to start,” he giggles anxiously. “First, Chenle, Jisung, Donghyuck, I am _so_ sorry we disappeared like that, really. But you know it wasn’t on purpose and you know we would have done anything to talk to you if we could.” There’s nothing but raw sincerity in his face, his eyes wide and imploring.

Chenle has to admit, he knows that’s true. Beside him, Jisung and Donghyuck nod, conceding him that. “Good,” Mark smiles, “because I kinda hate it when we fight. Okay, so, everyone, meet my friends: those are Donghyuck, Jisung and Chenle.” They wave half-heartedly to the people that surround them and to those still waiting by the kitchen sink for their turn to clean up. Slowly, the living room fills up again and Mark’s fidgeting worsens.

“We were on our way to this cabin when the infection spread. We were supposed to come here for a few days before classes started, I was going to teach the guys to hunt and shoot a gun, but obviously, things didn’t work out like that.” He doesn’t say anything about the gun shop. “The cabin is my uncle’s. He did a lot of remodelling over the last couple of years, gradually, you know. He replaced the flooring, updated the kitchen, expanded the basement, etc. He installed a solar panel on the rooftop – he was a scientist and loved all those natural fixes. He also put a water pump below ground with a pipe that went straight to the river just inside the treeline, although we have to boil the water before using it.”

Mark rambles some more before Jisung makes a noise at the back of his throat and he lets the air exit his lungs in a long swoosh. They wait for him to breathe some more and he continues to speak once Renjun is downstairs, too. “Anyway, yeah. Uh, please just let me finish talking before y’all lose your shit, okay?” he pleads. There’s confusion among the crowd, yet everyone murmurs their consent. Mark nods multiple times, a lot like those bobbing head dolls that Jisung’s older brother put on his car’s dashboard, and proceeds. “Right. My uncle worked for SYG. He was a researcher, I don’t know of what exactly, he never said. He found out about the experiments SYG was doing and he knew it was bad, so he developed a cure. He was smart like that,” Mark smiles bitterly. Chenle wants to wrap him in a hug; he never met Mark’s uncle, but he knows how attached he and Mark were. “He left the cure here, in the cabin.

“There were ten vials. We used seven, as a precaution, but also because Renjun was infected. Then, we debated taking the other three to the city. Some wanted to, others didn’t, and ultimately the vote decided against. It was too risky to go into the city again, especially after what happened on the way here.”

In spite of promising to stay quiet until Mark is done talking, everyone protests. Angry shouts fly across the room. Chenle sees Mark physically shrink into himself and stands up before he knows what he’s doing, says louder than anyone else, “The cure only works within twelve hours of the infection. There was no fucking way we were going out there and risk getting killed over something we didn’t know would be worth it.”

“Human kind isn’t worth it?!” “What the fuck is your problem?” And several other things are yelled at him. Chenle sits down again, lets the older boys handle it from now on. He didn’t come here to be yelled at, thank you very much.

“You weren’t here so you get no say in it,” Renjun cuts in. He’s standing in the threshold of the living room, leaning against the kitchen’s counter and dressed in an oversized sweater that reaches past his waist – it makes him look impossibly young. However severe his voice is, Chenle recognizes the shame that lingers in his shoulders. “Things were hard enough as it was and we weren’t going to risk losing anyone over a faraway possibility.”

“And either way,” Donghyuck interrupts, too cheerful, his smile too sharp, “that’s done and over with. Mark, please tell us more about your city adventures.”

Mark fixes Donghyuck with a look that says, _thank you for helping me, but please don’t say that_. He often looks at Donghyuck like that. Mark continues to tell their story, simmering down on his nerves as the tension in the room dissipates, until he gets to the part where they leave for the city. Chenle isn’t sure he wants to hear what he has to say.

By the end of his story, Mark is winded. He takes the water bottle offered by Jaemin and takes large gulps, then sits down on the only empty spot, to the left of Donghyuck. Donghyuck waits perhaps ten seconds before he’s grabbing Mark’s hand and blinking back tears. Chenle’s own eyes are clouded and watery, but he still won’t cry in front of strangers. Or, that’s the plan, at least. He keeps his head down and his eyes straight ahead, fixed on a spot on the wooden floor. Unbidden images flash in his brain, one after the other, none prettier than the last: a varying imagery of his friends lying dead in a pool of their own blood, the intruders before and after he shot or stabbed them, the pile of dirt in the forest hiding the corpses, Jisung and Donghyuck passed out from exhaustion on a bed while Chenle takes guard.

Renjun is suddenly in his line of vision, crouched in front of him. Chenle locks eyes with him and can’t look away. “Look, Chenle, Jisung, I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” Renjun murmurs. It’s low enough to be kept intimate in a crowded room – everyone pretending not to hear or see anything, interacting with each other – but loud enough for the two boys to hear him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“That’s okay,” Chenle mutters. He doesn’t think it even counts as a whisper.

“No, it’s not.” Renjun shakes his head, licks his lips and tries again. “I can’t keep taking things out on you. I was angry and tired but that isn’t an excuse, okay?”

Jisung nods first. He’s always been quick to forgive, even quicker than Chenle. “Yeah. Renjun, we get it. Just… try not to do it again?”

Renjun smiles, for the first time in the entire day, and he nods back. Chenle sniffs, does his very best to hold back, but there’s no possible way he could keep from bursting into tears with Renjun right here after so many days of thinking he was dead. It’s nothing more than a few stray tears and he wipes them away before they finish rolling down his cheeks, but Renjun catches them and he shuffles forward. Chenle doesn’t know what to expect until Renjun is tugging him into a hug.

It’s awkward, the angle is terrible, but it’s still a hug from Renjun and it’s more than he hoped for in a while. For once, Chenle doesn’t care a single bit about the audience.

~

The first vial to be used goes to Yeojin. She’s the youngest in the house, same age as Jisung, and it is consented that she will be vaccinated. There isn’t even an argument but a simple agreement after three weeks of their arrival to the cabin: they’re all gathered outside, working on a fire to cook meat, when Mark brings up the subject of the cure.

It’s a topic yet to be breached. The peace in the cabin is hanging precariously on a thin thread, made up of ignored truths and unspoken grudges, but of course Mark needs to speak his mind. Chenle, for a moment, expects chaos, for the others to demand a vote or something similar, yet he’s surprised to see that everyone simply shrugs and moves on. Yeojin is scared of needles, but Heejin holds her hand through it and later on swaps chores with her.

Chenle watches the others a lot. He and Jisung develop the habit of sitting down on a log or on the couch after lunch and look at everyone else go about their routines, keeping their conversations to a minimum unless there’s something very specific they want to say. Chenle discovers he’s good at reading people and that, sometimes, the most mundane things wind up being the best ones. Like how Donghyuck, Jeno and Jaemin laugh together by the swing Jungwoo builds; Heejin, Eunbin and Yeojin have girl talks by themselves on the roof while keeping guard; Felix and Eric play around together, sometimes Jisung or Seungmin joining them, sometimes Hyunjin or Hyunjoon; Yukhei and Yangyang spend an awful lot of time together, as do Kunhang and Dejun, but that’s none of Chenle’s business.

The oddest thing of all, however, is definitely to see Renjun and Jeno. Chenle isn’t sure he understands what kind of agreement those four reached, although he’s glad they aren’t constantly fighting anymore. Renjun blushes every time Jeno looks at him and Jeno smiles wider than he has in the longest time when Renjun holds his hand and Chenle just feels infinitely happy for them.

Most importantly, being with Jeno is good for Renjun. It’s not like being with someone suddenly cured Renjun of anything, but it makes him happier, and it makes his episodes seem less awful, less deadly. If he’s bad, Jeno forces him to sit outside with him and watch the stars at night, and Renjun always returns with some tension lost from his shoulders. When he’s manic, Jeno goes running with him around the cabin until Renjun has drained all his energy and goes to sleep without a hitch.

Their new housemates – their new friends, family, the word keeps changing as the days pass and Chenle’s opinion changes – don’t ask too many questions. Yeojin looks confused at Renjun’s mood swings sometimes, but Jisung tells her some of it one afternoon while he helps her clean one of the rifles.

“Renjun’s brain doesn’t work the way ours do,” Jisung says to her.

Yeojin huffs and rolls her eyes, a few stray bangs on her forehead flying away from her face. “I’m not a child, Jisung; I’m literally the same age as you. Just tell me, he’s sick, right?”

Jisung hesitates. Chenle watches the interaction from the other side of the deck, meticulously sharpening a blade. “Yes, he is. Mentally.”

“Okay, then,” Yeojin nods, and that’s the end of it.

Chenle also notices that Renjun is no longer the only one with a problem, after long hours of drinking their stash and sharing stories; everyone seems to have a story to tell. Not everyone shares on that night, but overtime, trust grows in the house and inhibitions lower.

“You know what sucks most about the apocalypse?” Han Jisung says. “My fucking medication is nowhere to be found. I’ve been off my meds for months and I might as well buzz away tonight.”

Jungwoo hums. “I was on my way to the pharmacy for a refill when I ran into my first zombie. Scared the panic attack right out of me.”

“I had an attack triggered _by_ the zombies,” Heejin scoffs. “I’d never had one before, fucking wild.”

Chenle was used to Renjun’s mild self-deprecation on a good day, so he didn’t blink much of an eye at the conversation.

Chores are decided through a meeting after a handful of days. Chenle is stuck on kitchen duty, as he predicted, but Jungwoo and Seungmin are as well, so there’s that. Chenle likes Seungmin right away, thinks he’s chill for someone that handles his friends every day, and Jungwoo is a bit of a mystery, mothers them but doesn’t offer much information on his past. It’s alright, however, because Chenle has always liked a challenge.

One night, Chenle can’t sleep at all. It’s one of those nights Chenle is stuck on the couch while someone else sleeps on the beds, and he’s grown accustomed to the cushions, doesn’t mind them much, it’s simply a sporadic case of insomnia, he’s sure. So, instead of forcing himself to lie perfectly still or count imaginary sheep, Chenle goes outside. Tonight’s on-duty guards are Seungmin and Eunbin by the front, Jungwoo and Eric towards the treeline and Mark and Dejun on walk patrol. The night air is warm enough Chenle doesn’t have to rush inside for something to cover up with, despite of winter nearing, and it’s quiet enough Chenle can hear Eunbin’s soft laughter from the other side of the cabin.

He walks past the on-going construction. Weeks earlier they discovered that, between all of them, they have enough knowledge to build a decent enough separate cabin, and several trips to nearby cities and towns provided them with more mattresses and quilts, as well as other necessities. They keep the tools locked up, just as a precaution, but the wood remains stacked by the side of the location. It won’t be as high end as the primary cabin is, but that’s beyond the point: they agreed on keeping the second building pretty basic, mostly for storage, and plan on moving lots of the furniture they have in the cabin there so there is more room to sleep in the secured cabin.

Chenle doesn’t expect to find most of his friends by the back porch. The only ones missing are Mark and, well, himself. Jaemin has Jisung leaning against his side, a hand petting the younger boy’s hair, the two’s legs tangled together; Jeno and Renjun are sitting on the swing, only their socked toes touching as they listen to Donghyuck talk about one thing or another, the boy’s head resting on Jeno’s thigh from where he’s sat on the ground. It’s a strangely domestic sight, one Chenle used to be accustomed to until months ago.

Jisung lights up when he sees Chenle and waves him over. Chenle is oddly giddy to join the cuddle pile and he settles on Jaemin’s other side, preening under the older boy’s touch as fingers card through his locks immediately.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Jaemin says.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure he was,” Donghyuck calls out. “Like a log.”

“I couldn’t sleep, actually,” Chenle says, “That’s why I came out here.”

Jisung looks at him over Jaemin’s shoulder. “Bro, you were snoring. Maybe something woke you up?”

Chenle ponders it. He supposes it could be that, although he has no idea what might have awakened him. In the end, he shrugs and decides it isn’t that important.

They talk for a bit, in hushed tones as to not disturb anyone. Jeno and Renjun migrate closer, leaving Donghyuck no choice but to do the same if he still wants to be petted. Chenle dozes in and out of sleep, the gentle caress of Jaemin’s fingers on his scalp lulling him. Mark joins them after a while as Kunhang comes outside to take over for him and he sits by Donghyuck’s side, rolling his eyes at the younger boy when he takes his lap as a pillow.

“How are you guys feeling?” Mark asks everyone. Chenle forces his eyes to stay open to focus on Mark. “With everything that’s been happening lately, I mean. We haven’t even had time to hang out.”

Renjun opens his mouth but snaps it closed. They encourage him to say whatever was on his mind but he shakes his head. “No. I was going to say something but I realised it would be mean so I won’t. Sorry,” he says to Mark. Mark blinks, confused, but he accepts the apology either way.

“I’m okay,” Jisung says. Like Chenle, he’s half-asleep on Jaemin’s shoulder. “I’m constantly tired and my feet hurt from walking around the woods so often but it’s fine.”

They voice their thoughts one by one. Renjun admits he’s been feeling down lately but is working on it, Jeno helps a lot and so do they, even if they don’t notice they are; Jaemin tells them he misses his family and that he’s been thinking about them a lot; Donghyuck tears up when he mentions his siblings, his little brothers that he should have said goodbye to on the day they left for camp, but didn’t; Jeno talks about his recurring nightmares, the ones they already know about because how couldn’t they, he wakes up screaming nearly every night, and confesses they are getting realer as times goes; Mark says he feels responsible, not just for them but for everyone else, and that the pressure is getting to him.

“I just wish I could talk to my family again,” Chenle says.

Hums of agreement. The conversation drifts somewhere else then, split into two or three, and for a moment Chenle can pretend like nothing is wrong, like they’re back home, sitting on a porch at any of their houses, up way past sensible hours but no one is tired because they’re with each other. Renjun laughs at something Mark says, Donghyuck complains about Mark jostling him from his nap and Jeno interjects with something – something sweet, probably, Chenle can’t hear it, but he can see the lovesick smile on Donghyuck’s face.

Chenle almost falls asleep like that, almost. He’s interrupted by a flash of light hitting his eyes. He thinks it’s one of the guys on patrol, but there’s no one around, and so long under these circumstances has made him a bit paranoid, so of course his guard rises immediately.

“Did you guys see that?”

Everyone shut ups. Chenle scans the area as best as he can in the dark, sees nothing, and wonders if maybe he imagined it. But then Jaemin tenses and leans forward, although his arms stay around the two of them, his face is set in the most serious expression Chenle has seen him wear.

“Inside.” The single word is spoken with such authority Chenle can’t bring himself to think about doing otherwise. They round the cabin as stealthily as possible to enter through the glass doors while Mark pulls the walkie-talkie from his hoodie and gives a single order to go back into the house.

Mark sends Jisung and Donghyuck upstairs to wake everyone else and bring them to the living room, the designated meeting room for when necessary. Chenle stands guard by the doors, watching anxiously as the patrollers walk backwards towards the cabin, their guns aimed forward and bodies visibly tense at the distance.

“There are people outside,” Jaemin says. The living room is slowly filling up with their housemates, all in varying degrees of consciousness and dress – Chenle compares Yukhei, in boxers, to Heejin, wrapped in a duvet, and tries not to laugh – until the glass doors slide shut. “I couldn’t count how many but I saw them move through the forest. They’re close.”

“Any weapons?” Yangyang asks. He’s tucked into Yukhei’s side, his hair on his face because he refuses to let Eunbin anywhere near him with scissors.

Jaemin shakes his head. “None that I could see but I think it’s almost certain that they have. Everyone grab something and go to your spots, no sleeping until they go away.”

They split up. Chenle follows most of them to the basement where the weapons are kept under lock, while those whom already had them - either because they sleep with a knife under their pillow or grabbed their guns before venturing downstairs – go to their positions. Chenle ducks under Jungwoo’s outstretched arm and takes a rifle from the cabinet, checks the ammo and nods to himself, pleased.

His spot is on the attic, by the small, round window facing the forest. There is a stool placed in front, for whenever Chenle has to stand guard and he settles down, wipes the accumulated dust and gazes outside. There’s still no sign of life outside, but Chenle’s gut is screaming, knows there must be something. Chenle opens the window, puts the rifle on his shoulder with the mouth just barely grazing outside.

Chenle aims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhh i really hope you guys enjoyed this story, i know i had a blast writing it. to think i started this in march during a national power out, didn't even plan on posting it until i did it on a whim, but i'm really happy i did because i ended up enjoying it tremendously. thank you so much to anyone who read this, to all of you who left a kudo or commented, it makes my absolute day when i receive feedback and your comments all made me smile so much and i sincerely hope you all had a good time with my little zombie au ❤

**Author's Note:**

> [ twitter](https://twitter.com/doitushine92)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/doitsushine92)


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